Will You Remember Me?
by littlem1y
Summary: What happens when Quinn gets into a car crash and doesn't remember anything since sophomore year? Slightly AU in that Quinn and Rachel are much closer senior year than on the show.
1. Chapter 1

**I got inspired to write this after reading a fic about Quinn getting amnesia and remembering a beautiful gifset of Rachel after Quinn's car crash talking about how she didn't remember her. It's my first story so hopefully it's not too bad :)**

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Alot had changed since her sophomore year of high school. She used to be Rachel Berry, the annoying Jewish girl who had two gay dads and an intense love for Broadway. Now it's her senior year, and everything feels different. Yes, she is still Jewish, still has two gays dads, and her love for Broadway has only increased. But now, she is so much more. She's the captain of the glee club, the girlfriend of the star quarterback, a finalist for NYADA, but most importantly, Quinn Fabray's best friend. This was no easy accomplishment. Neither of them had forgotten what had happened in sophomore year. Yet at the beginning of their senior year, they somehow got past all of that and created a strong bond. After seeing her emotional and psychological breakdown that included dyed hair and a questionable tattoo of Ryan Seacrest, Rachel reached out to Quinn. And even more surprisingly, Quinn reached back. Since then, they had been inseparable.

When the news of Quinn's car crash reached Rachel, she forgot about everything. The wedding, Finn, her parents, her fellow glee clubbers, everything. Because at that moment, nothing mattered more than making sure Quinn was ok. Rachel rushed to the hospital and as soon as she walked through the doors, demanded to see Quinn. After a rather long winded rant about the idiocy of the family policy that hospitals had, Rachel was finally allowed to see Quinn. She paused at the door and took a deep breath, preparing herself for whatever was behind it. The first thing she noticed after opening it was how awful Quinn looked.

She had bruises all along her face and her arms, and undoubtedly more underneath the hospital gown. There were a few cuts on her face and her left eye was swollen shut. Someone had propped up her leg, which was in a cast. Various tubes had been attached to her, all running to their respective machines. It was a heart breaking sight.

"Oh, Quinn," Rachel whispered, feeling the tears begin to well up. She hurried to the chair at the side of her bed and gently took Quinn's hand in her own, careful not to touch the I.V. Rachel felt Quinn stir slightly at her touch, but other than that, there was no reaction. She stayed in that position for a while, silently crying as she looked at Quinn's bleak condition. The sound of the door being opened made her look up.

"Thank you, doctor," Judy Fabray said politely, looking at something out of Rachel's line of sight. When she turned, she looked at Rachel sadly.

"What are they saying?" Rachel asked, aware of how small her normally loud voice sounded. Her best friend's mother didn't say much at first. Instead, she made her way over to Rachel and took her into a big hug.

"It's not looking good, sweetie," she finally said, "The doctors say that she might not wake up." At these words, Rachel felt herself crumple. She sobbed into Judy's shirt, feeling the older woman's tears on her own shoulder.

"She has to wake up. She can't leave," Rachel heard herself plead. Judy tensed and pulled away from Rachel, looking her in the eyes. Rachel couldn't help but think of how similar Judy's hazel eyes were to Quinn's.

"No. She's going to make it. We are not going to even think about any other outcome," Judy said firmly, "Do you hear me, Rachel? We have to be strong... for Quinn." Rachel took in her words, and after a moment, nodded her head.

"Good," Judy said, giving Rachel a watery smile before taking a step back and smoothing her shirt out. Even in times of crisis, she was still a Fabray. In a more business like tone, she continued, "Now, the doctor said she might not wake up, but if she makes it through the night, the chances of her waking up will be greater than not."

Rachel nodded again, a feeling hope rising in her. Just as she was about to reply, the door opened again. Actually, it was kicked in. Both Rachel and Judy flinched at the loud noise. Santana burst in, followed closely by Brittany and then by Finn. She rushed over to Quinn's bed and knelt down. Rachel looked on in confusion until she heard s string of Spanish leaving the girl's mouth. Santana was praying.

Brittany stood beside her girlfriend, sending a sad smile to Rachel before placing a hand on Santana's shoulder. Rachel could see tears on both the girls' faces. She felt a large hand on her own shoulder and looked up to see Finn gazing down at her sadly. She couldn't help thinking for a second that it wasn't his touch she wanted. She looked back down at Quinn, who seemed so small in the hospital bed.

Eventually the rest of the Glee club made their way into the room, but Rachel hardly noticed. She distantly heard Tina's sniffles and Mike's reassuring words. She barely noticed Mercedes looking away and Sam comforting her. She stayed by Judy, who seemed just as withdrawn as Rachel. One by one, each member left, offering kind words to Judy as they went. Only Rachel, Judy, and Santana were left. Finn had had to go home, as well as Brittany. He left with barely any recognition from Rachel. Brittany gave everyone a hug before leaving.

For the rest of the night, the three women said nothing. Their attention was all on Quinn, who wasn't responding much. A nurse came in at some point to check on her and told Rachel and Santana that they had to go. Judy took her aside quickly and told the nurse that they would be staying. Absentmindedly, Rachel imagined what either Santana or herself would have done had they tried to kick them out. At some point all three fell asleep, Rachel and Judy on one side of the bed, and Santana on the other.

Rachel woke up with her head on Quinn's bed. Judy was already awake, sipping a lukewarm cup of coffee and holding a small book. Santana was still sleeping, her body in a similar position to Rachel's. Rachel looked at Quinn and the small movements her chest made as she breathed in and out. She smiled up at Judy, who returned her gaze.

"We made it," Rachel said softly, not wanting to disturb Santana. Judy smiled back and took her hand.

"It's going to be touch and go from now on, but the doctors are saying that there's a good chance she will wake up soon. Right now they're worried about infection and..." Judy stopped herself. Rachel waited for her to continue, but Judy merely looked away.

"What else?"

"They're worried that Quinn won't be able to walk again." Judy's eyes were shining with fresh tears. "We won't know until she wakes up, but the doctors say that her spine took some serious damage..."

Rachel didn't say a word. She got up and, ignoring the ache in her back, wrapped her arms around the older woman. On the outside she seemed calm, but on the inside she was frantic. What if Quinn could never walk again? What if she was forced into a wheelchair, just like their friend, Artie. He seemed unfazed by his disability, but Rachel would catch him looking on sadly at the rest of the glee club as they practiced dancing. Quinn once told Rachel that she loved to perform. Now, her chances of being able to perform again were slim.

Rachel was uncharacteristically quiet the rest of the day. When the glee clubbers came to visit, she didn't say much. When Santana began lashing out at the doctors and the nurses, she didn't scold her. When her fathers came with food for her to eat, she barely said a word. When Finn came asking to take her home, she wordlessly declined. Judy noticed, but didn't say anything.

That night, Rachel fell asleep holding Quinn's hand. In her dreams, she was with Quinn in her small red VW. She watched as Quinn looked at her phone. She yelled at Quinn to be careful, but the blonde only laughed at her. She saw the incoming truck when Quinn stopped at a red light. When she screamed at Quinn to move, Quinn looked at her and replied, "This was for you, Rach," before Rachel felt the truck's impact.

Rachel barely registered the pain she should've felt. All she saw was Quinn's broken form next to her. Blood was pouring out of her head, and bits of glass were stuck in her hair.

"Quinn! Quinn, wake up!" Rachel yelled. She felt someone tug on her hand, and began panicking. "NO, get to Quinn! She needs your help!" she yelled.

She woke up still feeling someone pulling on her hand. Realizing that it was Quinn, Rachel sat up quickly, trying to keep from yelling out. She looked down at their hands and watched Quinn's hand twitch and move. She looked up and saw Quinn moving her head back and forth, her eyebrows furrowed. Rachel quickly shook Judy, who immediately looked at Quinn and cried out. After what seemed like an eternity, Quinn's eyes began slowly opening up. She blinked a few times, before looking around the room dazedly. Rachel held her breath as her eyes landed on Rachel, and then their entwined fingers.

"Quinn," Rachel breathed out, smiling at her. Suddenly, Quinn yanked her hand out of Rachel's, narrowing her eyes.

"What the hell are you doing, Manhands?" she demanded loudly, and with those few words, Rachel felt her heart break.


	2. Chapter 2

**Second chapter. Thank you to everyone who's reading this! The chapters are kinda short right now, but hopefully I'll be able to write more. Tell me if you think its any good :) **

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Rachel was used to being disappointed. She was used to Mr. Schuester giving solos to other people. She was used to Finn stomping all over heart and letting her down when she needed him most. She was used to constantly being ignored at school, despite her obvious talent. But what she felt at this time went far beyond disappointment. When Quinn repeated one of Rachel's old nicknames that she had used to torture her, Rachel felt utter devastation.

So when Judy began to step up to get a doctor, Rachel stopped her and offered to go herself. Because she couldn't handle letting either Quinn or her mother see her breakdown. As she hurried out the door, she could hear Quinn whispering to Ms. Fabray.

"Mother, what is _she_ doing here?" Quinn hissed, unaware of the flinch her words caused. Rachel quickly shut the door, afraid of what she might hear. She held back the tears that threatened to spill out. Now was not the time for her dramatics.

"Dr. Fields, I believe Quinn has woken up," Rachel told a doctor she recognized from the past day. He nodded once before hurrying to the room. Rachel stayed outside, sinking down into a chair next to the doorway. She heard muffled voices, but didn't try to make out what they were saying. Instead, she focused on what Quinn had just called her.

Despite all the bravado and confidence Rachel exuded, inside she was quite the self conscious girl. When Quinn accepted her offer of friendship, Rachel was very surprised. During the first few months of their tentative friendship, she feared that it was all a big joke. Some kind of horrible, cruel prank that the Cheerios had schemed. She was afraid that one day, someone was going to pull the rug out from under her, and that Quinn had never really wanted to be friends with her. It wasn't until after a long time that she finally accepted that her and Quinn's camaraderie was sincere. But today her biggest insecurity had come true. It seemed like Quinn was back to calling her rude names and wanting nothing to do with her. Rachel hadn't felt this bad since becoming friends with Quinn.

She looked up when both the doctor and Judy walked out of the room. She heard Santana's voice, so she must've woken up at some point. Judy gave her a sad smile and sat down next to her.

"It seems as if Quinn has a form of post-traumatic amnesia. She doesn't seem to be able to remember anything since the beginning of her sophomore year. She believed it was 2009," Dr. Fields told her. Rachel felt her heart drop even further. Sophomore Quinn had been the worst tormenter of all, especially in the beginning of the year.

"Now, she may not remember at this point in time, but post-traumatic amnesia is not necessarily permanent. With some help from her loved ones, I'm sure she'll be able to remember in no time," the doctor continued, giving Rachel and Judy a tired smile. Rachel couldn't bring herself to smile back. Judy noticed and wrapped a supportive arm around her. Rachel's head shot up as she remembered something else she'd been worried about.

"Wait! What about her legs? Can she still walk?" Rachel cried out to the doctor's retreating form. He turned around and shook his head.

"It's still too early to tell, but right now it seems like she hasn't regained feeling in her legs."

Rachel and Judy looked at each other sadly. Ms. Fabray thanked the doctor before turning to Rachel. She looked once at her, then back at the door, using the infamous Fabray eyebrow raise. Rachel couldn't stand how similar Quinn's mother looked compared to Quinn. She sighed once before nodding her head slightly, afraid of what was waiting for her on the other side. As they walked in, they heard Santana's voice.

"Listen, Q, I know you lost your memory and all that shit, so let me break it down for you. You're a senior now, going to Yale, and completely in lo ─," Santana stopped her rant when she noticed Rachel and Judy. Quinn's scowl deepened when she saw Rachel.

"I don't know what your problem is Santana, but I've got a major headache, so if you could please leave," Quinn said lowly, tearing her gaze away from the tiny brunette. Santana narrowed her eyes and returning the glare. It was almost frightening to see the two Cheerios have a stare down. The Latina eventually gave up, and turned towards the door. As she passed by Rachel, she put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly. Rachel smiled back before looking at Quinn, who watched the interaction with interest.

"Since when did you and Santana become so friendly, RuPaul?"

Judy sent her daughter a look, but Quinn ignored it. Rachel bit back the feelings her old nickname brought up and looked at Quinn calmly.

"The change was fairly recent, so I don't expect you to remember, but as of right now, Santana and I are very good acquaintances, perhaps even friends," Rachel replied coolly, earning herself an eyebrow quirk. Rachel recalled how she would tease Quinn about her habit and Quinn would raise her eyebrow before she even realized what she was doing.

"In fact," she continued, "you were a big part of that change." Quinn didn't respond, instead she looked down at her sheets. Rachel couldn't help but notice her fingers gently picking at stray threads, something else that Rachel would tease Quinn about.

"Mother, I'm not feeling well. I don't want any more visitors," Quinn said firmly, completely ignoring Rachel. Rachel felt her heart drop, but she wasn't terribly surprised. She nodded at Judy, who looked like she might've protested.

"I hope you feel better, Quinn," she said quietly before looking at Judy, "Goodbye, Ms. Fabray." Without another glance at Quinn, she walked out of the hospital room.

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The next day at school, Rachel was once again eerily quiet. The glee kids noticed of course, but no one had a clue why. The only person Rachel seemed to talk to was Santana, which was even more bizarre. Everyone was aware that Quinn had woken up, but only Santana, Rachel and Brittany knew about the amnesia. The two Cheerios were trying to cheer Rachel up. Well, only Brittany was being outwardly nice. Santana, as usual, had decided tough love would work better.

'_It's like an odd version of good cop, bad cop_,' Rachel thought to herself. Right now she was sitting with the couple at lunch, separate from her other friends. She was only half listening. Her mind was occupied with the decision to visit Quinn after school or not. On one hand, she missed Quinn a lot; on the other, the Quinn she would see wouldn't be her Quinn. Without realizing, she let out a big sigh, alerting her companions that she wasn't exactly paying attention.

"Berry. Berry? RACHEL!" Santana had to nearly shout to get the smaller brunette's attention. "Look, I know that this is some shitty situation here. Hell, I probably hate sophomore Quinn just as much as you do. She was a bitch to everyone. But moping around ain't gonna do shit about it. So you needs to get your tiny ass up, and try to get old Q back." Rachel rolled her eyes, but listened to her words.

"Technically, Santana, we'd be getting the new Quinn back," Rachel replied, ignoring Santana's raised finger, "But you are correct. My being downcast is not helping anyone."

"What does this have to do with bad weather, Rachel? San was talking about Quinn," Brittany chimed in. Rachel opened her mouth to respond as someone grabbed her from behind.

"Finn! You scared me. What are you doing here?" Rachel asked, removing her hand from her chest. This year she had tried to tone down her dramatics. He smiled lopsidedly at her before giving her a chaste kiss. Rachel noticed Santana scowl out of the corner of her eye.

"I've missed you. We haven't really talked since the church, I mean, with Quinn and the accident," Finn said, wrapping an arm around her. Rachel turned to him incredulously.

"Finn, there are more important things to be thinking about than our upcoming nuptials!"

He wrinkled his brow in confusion. "Is that something dirty? Because I thought you said that we couldn't do it again until after the wedding and now we don't have the church because it's all booked up."

Santana gagged before standing up and saying, "Alright, I don't need to hear anymore. Brits and I are going. See ya Rachel." Rachel noticed she didn't say anything to Finn. The Latina hadn't really forgiven him for outing her yet. But not saying anything to him was better than mean nicknames, Rachel supposed.

"I was talking about the wedding. Quinn just woke up from a coma that resulted from a car crash that she got into on her way to _our_ shotgun wedding. The least we can do is postpone it until she recovers," Rachel said. Finn took on his wounded puppy face, and she felt badly about how she was treating him.

"I'm sorry, Finn. This has just been a stressful time and I'm taking it out on you. I'm just very concerned about Quinn."

"I get it. I'm worried about her too. But Quinn supported the wedding, so I don't think she'd mind us talking about it," Finn replied, before glancing at the clock, "I gotta go. Mr. Schue said he wanted to talk to me about something." He kissed her head and then loped off, leaving Rachel all alone. She also couldn't help but think that he was being a little insensitive to Quinn's condition. Mentally, she made a promise to visit Quinn after school, whether she had her memory or not.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you again to everyone reading this story! It's my first one, so I'm not exactly sure where I'm going right now... Reviews are always appreciated! :)**

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When Rachel entered Quinn's hospital room, the former head Cheerio's eyes were closed and she was muttering under her breathe. She was holding her side and, if Rachel wasn't mistaken, a light sheen of sweat covered her skin.

"Quinn?" Rachel asked, causing the other girls eyes to shoot open, "Is something wrong?"

Quinn was in a lot of pain. Getting rammed into by a huge truck would do that to you. She couldn't remember ever feeling this much pain, but for some reason, it also felt familiar. But then again, she was a Cheerio. Who knew how much she'd had to suffer through in these past two and a half years. She grimaced again as another painful pang passed through her body. She eyed Rachel, internally debating whether to send the annoying brunette away, or perhaps try and let her help. In the end, the pain she was feeling became too much.

"Pain. Lots of it," Quinn replied stiltedly, before jerking her head towards the door, "And the nurses won't give me anymore FUCKING meds." Rachel flinched at the curse word, but said nothing about it.

"Would you like me to get the nurse?" she asked cautiously. She may have befriended the blonde before, but the girl in front of her was much more hostile.

Quinn resisted rolling her eyes before answering, "No. I've already pushed the stupid button thousands of times. They told me they couldn't give me anymore right now."

"I'm sorry, Quinn. Is there anything you want me to do?"

Quinn considered this for a moment. She'd been crazy to answer Rachel in the first place. There wasn't much the girl could actually do. It's not like she had some magical powers that could heal Quinn's bruised and broken body.

"Just… go."

Her words and tone hurt Rachel, but the smaller girl didn't want to upset her any further. She nodded, and began to turn towards the exit before hearing Quinn gasp in pain. She rushed to her side and looked the girl over.

"I believe the nurses are simply following procedure, but I believe I can convince them that your pain is too much for you to handle. I'll be back in a few seconds," Rachel assured Quinn, resting her hand on her head for a fraction of a second. For a brief moment, Quinn wished she had kept her hand there longer.

Outside the room, Quinn could hear Rachel Berry's loud, obnoxious voice. But instead of fighting for a solo, Rachel was now fighting for the sake of Quinn's comfort. Her mother hadn't explained much of what was missing from Quinn's memory, but the cheerleader had a feeling that there was a lot she had missed. This was Rachel "Little Miss Diva" Berry. The same girl whom Quinn had been tormenting for years and was trying to steal Finn. Then again, Quinn was sure future Quinn had already dumped his oblivious ass a while ago.

She was snapped out of her thinking as Rachel and a harried looking nurse walked into the room. The nurse shot the diva a hateful look before going over the Quinn's I.V.

"We're going to give you about 5 mg of morphine right now, miss Fabray. I'm sorry for the pain."

Quinn waved her off as she felt the pain ebb away and be replaced with only mild discomfort. Rachel watched as the blonde's features relaxed and couldn't help but smile. When Quinn looked at her, she hid it. With a start, Rachel realized that perhaps she hadn't lost her fear of Quinn like she had assumed. Right now, in the face of the old Quinn, Rachel was very much afraid of being ridiculed, just as old Rachel had been. She was shocked when she heard Quinn's next words.

"Thank you," Quinn said softly, giving Rachel the smallest of smiles. It sounded sincere enough. Rachel grinned back.

"You're welcome, Quinn. It was no trouble, really. I can't stand to see people in pain when they needn't be." Quinn raised her eyebrow slightly.

"Even me?" Quinn inquired, realizing what a loaded question that was. Rachel too heard what the girl was really asking.

"Of course. Especially you."

Quinn didn't know what to say to her answer. It was so short, so un-Berry like. She expected Rachel to rant about forgiveness, or being above everyone else, or something like that. She didn't foresee Rachel answering in such an intimate way. Nothing was making sense right now, and Quinn began to feel much more tired than when Rachel first came into her room.

"Could you please go? I…. I need to rest."

Rachel didn't say anything back, but her disappointment was written all over her face. Quinn watched as she visibly pulled on a happy face and nodded before leaving. As she pulled out of the hospital, Rachel vowed to figure out a way to get her best friend back. At the same time, Quinn vowed to figure out just what her life had become.

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Judy Fabray left her daughter's hospital room feeling utterly exhausted, but also incredibly relieved. That morning, as she stopped by before work started to check on Quinn, the younger blonde demanded that she tell her everything that happened between the beginning of sophomore year and the car crash. Judy agreed and called in sick to her office, completely aware that Quinn's past would take up a whole day.

Quinn really didn't know how to process all of this new information. The day had been a roller coaster of emotion for her. Actually, there seemed to be more downs than ups.

The first piece of information she received was her pregnancy. As far as she knew, she was the president of the celibacy club, and did not desire to have premarital sex at all, especially with Finn. Except the baby wasn't Finn's; it was Puck's. Quinn felt like she was about to throw up. Noah Puckerman? She couldn't believe that she had ever even wanted to have sex with that boy.

Her mother assured her that the pregnancy was a complete accident. Apparently, Quinn had gotten drunk off of wine coolers and had been feeling particularly fat that day. That didn't really make her feel better though.

Eventually, Quinn had given baby Beth away, after giving birth the night of sectionals. First of all, the name Beth seemed completely random to Quinn. She wondered exactly where she had come up with it. Second of all, she was now in the glee club. When the hell had that happened? As far as she remembered, she considered the club to be absolute social suicide. Judy really couldn't clarify exactly why she had joined; that was a question for her friends.

Her friends, which now included the glee kids shockingly. The head cheerleader could not believe that she had become so desperate as to seek the comfort of the nerds and losers of McKinley High. She barely even remembered half the kids' names. There was that wheelchair boy, the Asian girl with the annoying stutter, the extremely flamboyant boy, and the black girl.

"Mercedes," her mother had whispered when Quinn brought her up.

"What?"

Her mother cleared her throat before explaining, "Um, Mercedes Jones. She was the one who took you in after Finn kicked you out." Something in her mother's tone made Quinn suspicious.

"And why was I living with Finn…?"

Her mother seemed visibly pained by her question. It was odd seeing her mother with so much emotion. Quinn was used to having a robot as a parent, who followed and doted on her father all the time. The woman sitting in front of her was only familiar to her in appearance. Quinn remembered her mother as distanced, not the touchy feely person she was now.

"Well, after we heard about your pregnancy, your father and I, well…" Judy continued, not meeting her daughter's eyes, "Russell kicked you out of the house." She looked up to see Quinn's wounded expression.

"Daddy? He…kicked me out?" Quinn asked brokenly, tears filling her eyes. When her mother merely nodded and didn't say anything, Quinn realized something. Her gaze hardened as she asked, "He threw me out, but you didn't do anything to stop him?"

"Quinnie, you have to realize that the baby came as a complete shock to both of us. We were so proud of you being the head cheerleader and part of the celibacy club. And when your father threw you out, I had no idea what to do-," Judy began regretfully.

"So as soon as your perfect daughter stopped being so perfect, you threw her away like trash," Quinn stated, coldly.

"No," Judy replied firmly, "I had to think a little bit first, but I never stopped loving you, Quinnie. Believe me. It took some time, perhaps too long a time, but eventually I divorced his drunken ass and came to get you. That was the day you went into labor. I'm so sorry I ever let you leave our house Quinn. "

They moved onto lighter topics once Quinn accepted her mother's apology. Both knew that it wouldn't be that easy, but right now wasn't the time to dwell on it. Judy told her that she briefly dated some boy named Sam, who had moved to Lima their junior year. Then she dated Finn again, and even went to prom again. Quinn couldn't help but hear the slight disdain in her mother's voice whenever she mentioned the quarterback's name, but she didn't comment.

Apparently, Quinn had lost prom queen to Kurt Hummel, the gay boy in the glee club. She was sure she would have laughed at the humiliation before, but right now, she felt sympathy for him. The blonde girl could tell something had changed in her. She seemed to truly like the kids in the glee club. She shook those thoughts out of her mind and focused on what new information her mother was giving her.

Finn broke up with her shortly after that, apparently at Coach Sylvester's sister's funeral. "Asshole," Quinn muttered under her breath. Her mother heard, but only smiled and nodded in agreement.

The glee club had made it all the way to Nationals this time, but they lost. Judy told her conspiratorially that it was probably because Finn had kissed Rachel on stage. Quinn felt herself bristle at this, but had no idea why.

"And then, well, honey, you turned into quite the rebel," Judy had said cautiously. Quinn raised an eyebrow at this.

"Well, first you came home with short hair," Judy started. Quinn had noticed that her hair was now so short that it would barely be able to fit into a ponytail. "And then, over the summer, you dyed it pink. I wasn't exactly sure about this change, but if that's what how you wanted to express yourself, then I would accept it."

"You stopped taking all your friends' phone calls. I don't know how many times you told me to hang up on Santana and Brittany. Then you started hanging out with those girls. Ronnie, Sheila, and "the Mack"?"

Quinn recognized those names. They were the Skanks, the most vicious groups of girls besides the Cheerios. She had never even talked to any of them before. They hung around the bleachers and yelled at the Cheerios as they passed by. The two groups rarely interacted past that, though. An unspoken agreement protected both sides.

"And Quinn, dear, I'm not judging, but some nights you would come home smelling like cigarettes and alcohol. It was very disconcerting as a parent. Fortunately, Rachel helped pull you out of that slump."

"Hold up. Rachel Berry? Rachel Berry did what exactly?" Quinn tried to sit up, but fell back at the pain in her chest. Judy just shrugged, patting Quinn's head lightly.

"I'm not exactly sure sweetheart. One day, you went to school with pink hair. That afternoon, you came back with blonde hair again, and Rachel at your side. You two have been inseparable ever since."

Quinn was completely shocked. Being BFFs with Rachel Berry was just as high up as getting pregnant on the WTF Scale. How the hell had future let this happen? The hobbit couldn't possibly have changed so much that she'd actually hang out with her.

Though, now that she thought about it, Berry had been in to visit her more than any other person. Actually, nobody that was supposedly her friend now had been in, except Santana. Her mother had told her that the glee club had come in while she was still asleep, but still. Rachel fucking Berry was the one who seemed to care the most.

When her mother walked out the door, Quinn was still trying to process it all. It may have been 2 and a half years for everyone else, but to her, her entire life had changed in one single night. She had no boyfriend, was only just starting Cheerios again for the like billionth time, was best friends with Rachel "Manhands" Berry, and apparently Yale-bound.

"Fuck!" Quinn cried out as she realized something. She groaned into her pillow. How the hell was she supposed to do any of her school work?


	4. Chapter 4

**Another update! Again, thank you to those who continue to read this! Feedback is very much appreciated! How is my writing? It's my first story (sorry if this is redundant) so I would really like to know what you guys think! Enjoy! :)**

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There was a small army gathering outside Quinn's hospital room. The doctor hadn't allowed Quinn to have too many visitors once she had woken up and today was the first day that the doctor had okayed having so many people come at once.

Rachel was standing in front of the door, facing her teammates. Everyone could tell that she was preparing to say something, though only two knew what. Santana had witnessed Quinn's amnesia firsthand, and if Santana knew, so did Brittany.

"I know you are all extremely anxious to see Quinn right now," Rachel started, glancing from face to face, but there is something that needs to be said before you all go in." Finn smiled at her. Kurt looked a little worried. Mercedes just looked impatient. Everyone else waited expectantly for her to continue.

"Just spit it out, Rachel," Mercedes snapped. The other diva was being rude, but Rachel understood that it was just her nerves speaking. Mercedes had a special relationship with Quinn, one that Rachel envied at times. The other girl had been the one to take in Quinn at her lowest point, something that the brunette wished she had been brave enough to at least offer.

She took a deep breath and finished, "Quinn woke up with amnesia. The doctors say that it's not uncommon in the case of a car crash. From what they can tell, Quinn can only remember up until the beginning of senior year. I don't know exactly how much she's been told yet."

The glee club went uncharacteristically silent for a moment. Everyone knew what Rachel wasn't saying, even the kids who had transferred their junior year. Everything that they had been through together had been erased clean from the girl's memory. All the lessons learned, all the tolerance gained; all gone. The girl in that room wouldn't be their friend, but the cheerleader who had thrived on humiliating them.

Mercedes broke the silence, "What the hell, Rachel? You've known for, what, a few days and only now decide to tell us?" Rachel flinched at her accusing tone, but nodded. Both Kurt and surprisingly, Santana, took a step towards Rachel defensively. The other kids in the group seemed too shell-shocked to do or say much of anything.

"I can't believe you kept this from us. That's our girl in their too! She ain't just yours!"

"Hold up, Aretha. Don't start on Berry like it's her fault we're in this shit situation. Be happy she told you now instead of letting you figure it out your own damn self," Santana interrupted, surprising everyone, including Rachel.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you guys," Rachel said quietly, not meeting any of their eyes. Finn decided to step in.

"It's okay, Rach," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder, "You just didn't want to upset any of us, right?" He grinned at her encouragingly. Actually, Rachel had been slightly put off that some of the glee kids, namely Finn, had been acting very nonchalant in the wake of Quinn's accident. She didn't voice this opinion.

Kurt cleared his throat. "Well, I guess we should go in."

"Yes, I'm sure the staff isn't happy about a bunch of teenagers blocking their hallway," Rachel conceded, "But, before we do go in, I would like to offer a suggestion. I think everyone should introduce themselves to Quinn. She must be extremely confused right now, no matter how much she's been told. I think introductions would be very helpful." Nobody argued with her, not even Mercedes, so she put her hand on the doorknob.

* * *

Quinn could hear the commotion coming from outside her room. There seemed to be a lot of voices, all speaking at once. Then, they all went silent, and Rachel's distinctive voice could be heard.

The blonde had been thinking about her ever since her mother had left. She just couldn't wrap her head around their supposed friendship. Though, on second thought, Rachel _had_ been the person to visit her most, besides her mother. And, when she was here, she seemed very different from the girl Quinn remembered.

There was still a very Rachel quality about her. She was still loud and confident. But there was also a new maturity about her. She wasn't as obnoxious or intense as she had been. She had also been extremely concerned for Quinn, which was the most shocking change of all.

Quinn was snapped out of her thoughts as the door opened and a sea of people entered her room. She couldn't see Rachel yet, but there was no doubt in her mind that she was there, somewhere. The group surrounded her bed tentatively, keeping their distance. After some shuffling, the tiny brunette made her way to the front of the group.

But it wasn't Rachel who spoke first; it was a boy with perfectly coiffed hair and a… unique sense of style.

"Hi, Quinn," he greeted softly, taking a small step forward, "You don't recognize me, or probably most of us, so I'll begin the introductions. I'm─" he paused as she held up a hand.

"Ok, listen here," Quinn commanded not unkindly, pulling herself into more of a sitting position. She didn't fail to notice Rachel's small step in her direction when she winced at the pain in her side. "I may be amnesia girl right now, but I'm not stupid. I know your names."

Truthfully, she really didn't know most of them off the top of her head, but she didn't want to be pitied. She'd be able to search her brain for their names if she tried hard enough. She didn't need their help.

"Kurt, right?' she started with the fair haired boy in front of her. He nodded.

"Uh, Tina… Artie?" she continued, looking towards the Asian girl and the boy in the wheelchair respectively.

"Mercedes Jones," she said a little softer than the others. The girl looked surprised, but smiled at the cheerleader.

"Mike, Finn, Puckerman," she said Puck's name curtly. He frowned in confusion but didn't say anything.

"Santana, Brittany," she moved on, smiling a little when the taller blonde's face lit up. And then she stopped, looking at unfamiliar faces. "I don't recognize you people."

The first person to step up was a girl wrapped in a fur coat. Whether it was real or not, Quinn had no idea.

"Sugar Motta. The pleasure is all yours," the girl squeaked, thrusting out her hand. Quinn merely stared at it until the girl retracted her arm. The small girl was then pulled back by Santana, who merely glared at her.

"Sam Evans," a blonde boy with slightly too large lips said, smiling at her kindly. He was the boy who she had dated the beginning of junior year. He seemed ok.

"Blaine Anderson," another boy continued. This one was a little shorter than the other guys and had extremely gelled hair. His smile was genuine though.

"Rory Flanagan," muttered another boy. The blonde could barely understand him through his thick Irish accent. '_Where the hell had Mr. Schuester found all these people?' _Quinn thought to herself absentmindedly.

"I'm not exactly in glee club, but I'm Joe Hart," said a guy with dreads. Quinn stopped herself from wrinkling her nose in distaste. Dreads on anyone were so not attractive.

She was happy the introductions were over. God, there were so many people in her room right now. Her eyes flitted over to Rachel, who returned her gaze unflinchingly. That was another thing that had changed since Quinn last remembered.

"So Quinn, how are you feeling?" the girl Mercedes asked.

She shrugged in response. "Like a truck hit me. But apparently I've pushed a human being out of my body, so I guess it's nothing I'm not used to," she replied a little testily. Everyone seemed to shift uncomfortably.

"Yeah, anyways," Finn tried subtly changing the subject, "everyone has been missing you, so we decided to sing you a song." He grinned at her hopefully. She raised her eyebrow. He took it as encouraging, not incredulous, and guided everyone away from her bed.

It wasn't really a new song for them, but Quinn didn't know that. Finn decided they should sing Keep Holding On again, like they had sophomore year. Maybe jog her memory. Rachel thought they should have come up with something new, perhaps a song that didn't make it sound like Quinn was between life and death. She consented to the song as long as they redid the arrangement to better fit a hospital room and their new members.

As the glee kids sang, Quinn felt tears begin to form. She had no idea why. The performance wasn't making her sad. She admitted that it sounded pretty good, but certainly not so great that it brought tears to her eyes.

And then she felt it. This feeling of having done this before. Like déjà vu, but slightly stronger. She remembered singing this song. She remembered that Rachel had been staring at her the exact same way as she was now. And she remembered crying during the very end of the performance.

She fought against the tears and clapped a little as the song ended. Right now, all she wanted was for them to leave. She didn't really mind any of them, at least not yet. But the blonde was worn out, after her long talk with her mother, and now having weird flashback things. It was a lot for one day. She thanked the glee club for their song and was relieved as Finn announced that they all had to go home.

One by one, each member shuffled out of the room after saying their goodbyes. Quinn decided to take advantage of the newfound silence by leaning back against her bed and closing her eyes.

"If you're going to be a creep, could you at least do it where I can't see you?" she spoke after a moment of silence. Rachel jumped slightly; surprised that Quinn could tell she hadn't left the room. The blonde opened her eyes and looked at the girl tiredly.

"What do you want, Berry?"

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to make sure you're okay. You seemed a bit… distracted during the song."

"Migraine," Quinn replied shortly, "It's been a long day."

"Oh."

The cheerleader frowned at Rachel's response, or lack thereof. The old Rachel would have pushed for details, or at least launched onto a topic more centric to her. The girl in front of her just continued to stare at her.

"Really, is there something you want?" Quinn inquired irritably. She knew she shouldn't be so mean to the hob─ Rachel, but her head really was killing her right now. If she was being honest with herself (which she most certainly wasn't), she'd concede that having the diva in the room actually made her a little more relaxed.

The girl in question opened her mouth a little, as if to say something, but closed it. After a moment, she just nodded her head a little. "I'm sorry if I bothered you, Quinn. I just wanted to make sure you were feeling alright."

Feeling a little bad about her last statement, Quinn offered her a small smile. "I'm fine, Berry. I just want to go to sleep." Rachel smiled back, and moved towards the door.

As she was leaving, Quinn swore she heard Rachel whisper, "Sweet dreams, Quinn."

* * *

Rachel left her best friend's room feeling exhausted. It was tiring having to deal with the glee kids, no matter their intentions. She was used to visiting Quinn alone, but now, she felt like she had to make sure that everyone else didn't upset Quinn, as well as herself .

As tiring as the visit was, Rachel also felt very pleased. Quinn hadn't been rude or cruel to any of them, as she, and everyone else probably, had expected. Perhaps she hadn't exactly reverted to sophomore Quinn. Maybe senior Quinn was influencing her actions just a little bit.

The two smiles she had received so far from Quinn were bittersweet. They showed that Quinn was at least trying to be nice to her. But they were also nowhere near as bright as Rachel was used to. They were pale reminders of just how much was lost in that car crash.

As Rachel walked into the lobby, she was surprised to see Kurt waiting for her. He was sitting, one leg crossed over his knee, casually reading some trashy tabloid, but immediately got up when he saw Rachel.

"Kurt? What are you still doing here? You didn't have to wait for me."

"Well for starters, I drove you, so I kinda did. Annd, I wanted to see how you were doing anyways," he said teasingly, flashing a smile. Even though the tiny brunette had been spending a lot more time with Quinn than him, Kurt still considered Rachel to be one of his best friends. They'd had their differences in the beginning, but in the end, he knew Rachel would always be there for him. It was his turn to be there for her.

She smiled at him gratefully. "Thank you, Kurt. For the ride and for your concern but I'm fine." He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Oh please. Don't even try that with me, girl," he sassed, wagging his finger at her, "But a hospital is not the place to have girl talk, so would you please follow me to my car?"

Rachel sighed, knowing there was no arguing with Kurt. This could be what she needed, anyways. Her main confidante was now in the hospital; she needed someone else to vent to.

Kurt closed his door and then locked them in the car. Rachel stared at him, slightly alarmed. He shrugged and explained, "In case you try to escape." Then he broke out into a smile, letting her know he was only teasing.

"Okay, now you have to talk. I don't have to be home until late, so feel free to rant."

She rolled her eyes, but started anyways, "It's just a little hard, I suppose."

When she didn't continue, Kurt tried to push her a bit. "Rach…"

"I mean, I was so worried for her before, Kurt. I just kept imagining that she wouldn't ever wake up, or that all the machines in there would just start beeping, like they do on TV, and that would be it. I was so afraid of losing her. And when she woke up, in those two seconds before she said anything, I was so happy. And then she called me 'Manhands' and I realized that maybe I still lost her." Rachel herself was a little shocked at what she was saying. She hadn't stopped to feel sorry for herself before, but Kurt had opened the door, allowing _all _her emotions to run free.

Kurt listened intently, all traces of joking gone. He liked having this Rachel back: the one who ranted, not the subdued, quiet one he'd been seeing lately. His heart broke a little when he heard the 'Manhands' bit.

"Rach, you haven't lost her. She's still here," he told her softly.

"But she's not. Not really. She's the old Quinn. The one who hates me." Rachel looked down at her hands, frowning. Gently, Kurt took hers into his own.

"Look at me, sweetie. I don't think Quinn ever really hated you. I think she was afraid of you. That's why most people treated you badly. That's the reason I was mean to you, at least."

"Afraid?"

He nodded. "Of course. You're beautiful, talented, and more driven that half the school put together. If you added popular to that list, God help us all."

Rachel smiled a little, but still looked troubled. "Some days I wonder, how exactly did I manage getting Quinn Fabray to be my friend? I always thought it was some big joke."

"Funny, that's what I think sometimes about a certain diva friend of mine."

"Really? That's very sweet, Kurt."

"Hmm, yes. How did I ever get that Mercedes Jones to be my friend?" he said with a completely straight face. However, at the indignant look on Rachel's, he burst out laughing. She huffed and smacked his arm.

"So rude, Hummel." She couldn't help but smile slightly, hindering her chastisement.

"You love me," he shot back. Then he became serious again. "And I'm so glad that we're friends." Rachel smiled happily back and threw her arms around his neck.

"Me too, Kurt."

With that, Kurt pulled out of the hospital parking lot and began driving Rachel home. Even though the conversation before had been heavy, the ride home was very light. They sang along to the songs on the radio and bickered like old ladies when one of them changed the station.

As they pulled up next to the brunette's house, Kurt took her hand in his again. "You managed to break through her ice queen exterior once, Rachel. I've no doubt that you can do it again." His eyes were warm and he squeezed her hand encouragingly.

"Thank you, Kurt," she replied genuinely, pausing a moment before asking, "You don't have to be home until late, correct? Would you like to stay for dinner?"

"It would be my pleasure, Miss Berry," he responded genteelly, stepping out of the car and making his way to open her door.

"What a gentleman," Rachel commented, playing along, "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to woo me, Mister Hummel."

The fair haired boy merely laughed, linking his arm with hers. Rachel felt much lighter after talking with Kurt. She was glad to have him to confide in. Maybe she didn't have to figure out the Quinn problem on her own.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry this took so long to post! I've been on vacation and working on two separate computers, not to mention my dumb writer's block. Hopefully the length of this chapter makes up for it? Again, thank you to all of those who continue to read this! Please review :)**

* * *

Rachel woke up to the sound of the doorbell ringing. She glanced around confusedly, eyes falling on her unexpectedly silent alarm clock and a note sitting next to it. It was already 9 in the morning! Not only was her morning routine all messed up, but she was also wasting the day away! She grabbed the note and read irritably:

_Sorry, sweetie. Your dad and I thought you deserved to sleep in. You had a late night with Kurt. Don't be too upset with us._

She crumpled the note up with a huff and threw it into her trash bin. The incessant ringing of the doorbell was the only thing that kept her from ranting, probably out loud, about her fathers.

Granted, she and Kurt had stayed up quite late last night. He stayed until almost 1, before Burt finally called and demanded he get home. The two divas had spent the time doing makeovers (mostly on Rachel) and watching their favorite movies; _Funny Girl _and _27 Dresses. _They really had lost track of time.

"I'm coming!" Rachel yelled down as she descended the stairs. It better not be her fathers, or they could expect a firm talking to, she thought to herself. Shockingly, it was neither Hiram nor Leroy, but an irritated Santana at her door.

"Santana? Wh─what?"

The Latina rolled her eyes and pushed past the smaller girl. "Good morning to you too, Berry. I'm glad you're just as fast with your words as you are getting the freakin' door."

Rachel watched in shock as Santana made her way to the Berry's living room, but quickly recovered herself. She took the chair across the room from her visitor.

"Good morning, Santana. I apologize for the lack of my usual verbosity, but I'm quite surprised to find you at my doorstep at 9 in the morning."

Santana eyed her incredulously. "Seriously, hobbit? I honestly don't know if I can handle your vocab this early." She had draped herself across the comfortable couch lazily, trying to get relaxed.

Rachel merely shrugged in response. She'd long stopped defending herself to Santana. Her insults were now more in jest than malice. When Santana was sure the diva wasn't going to start speaking again, she explained herself.

"I came here to talk about Quinn."

The smaller girl instantly tensed, which the Latina did not fail to notice. "I don't know what you want to talk about." She wiped her hands against her legs nervously, realizing she had not changed out of her sleeping shorts. Her response did not sit well with the girl across from her.

"Oh, don't play that ignorant crap with me, Rachel. Both of us know that you're hurting bad over Quinn losing her memory," Santana shot back, though not unkindly.

As much as she didn't want to admit it, the Cheerio had come to know the tiny singer very well. Every time Quinn was mentioned in conversation, Santana could see Rachel deflate a minute amount. She saw the spark in her eye go out just a tiny bit; her smile becoming just a little bit forced. She was worried less by her familiarity with Rachel, and more by the diva's change in personality.

The smaller brunette refused to meet Santana's eyes as she responded. "Of course I hate it, Santana. But unfortunately, there's not much we can do. The doctors' said to just─"

"Bullshit."

Rachel's eyes snapped up at the Latina's cold tone. She found her sitting upright, slightly leaned forward. Santana stared back defiantly, daring Rachel to speak. Of course, Rachel didn't back down. "Excuse me?"

"I'm calling your bullshit. There is no way Rachel fucking Berry is backing down and just letting her best friend forget about her. She'd be making stupid Powerpoints and coming up with ridiculous plans, not just sitting on the sidelines."

Rachel felt herself tear up at the other girl's words. They hurt; they hurt because they were true. Her hands fiddled with a stray string on the chair she was in. She needed the distraction. Santana could see that she'd almost gotten to the girl. She just needed to push a little more.

"Look, I know you and Q weren't exactly happy with each other before the accident, but even so, Quinn wouldn't just sit by if it were you."

Suddenly, the smaller girl was up on her feet, inches away from the cheerleader's face. "Don't you think I know that? Don't you think it kills me knowing that I can't do a goddamn thing to help her? That it's basically my fault she's even like this? I hate it. I hate seeing her every fucking day and knowing that there isn't a thing I can do!" Rachel snarled, her voice rising to a yell by the end.

Santana sat shocked for a moment, completely taken aback by what Rachel had said, and the words she had used. Rachel Berry never swore, or ever get in Santana's face. She shook off the surprise and continued on.

"I don't want to hear your little pity party, Berry. I want to know what you plan to do!"

"It is not a pity party! It's the truth!" The diva was visibly shaking with pent up anger. She honestly had no idea she could get so aggravated. Santana was just as frustrated with her.

"Bull. Shit," she repeated, stepping towards the tiny brunette. "The truth is that you're too fucking scared to help out our best friend."

Tension filled the small room. Santana knew her words had hit their mark. She waited to see Rachel's response.

As quickly as she'd lashed out, Rachel burst into tears, wrapping her arms around Santana. The Latina was momentarily confused with the diva's sudden emotional changes, but hesitantly returned the embrace.

"You're… right. I'm so… scared. I'm fuckin… terrified," Rachel sobbed, her statement hindered by small hiccups. Santana hated tears more than anything. She didn't do well with emotions, but she needed to slap Rachel out of her funk. She tried a softer approach.

"What I don't get is why? Why are you so scared?" she asked after giving the girl a moment to calm down. Rachel pulled away and didn't respond. "You've never been scared of Quinn before, even when she was a gigantic bitch to you. So, why now?"

It took Rachel a few seconds to respond. The silence was becoming too long for Santana, and she opened her mouth to push Rachel again until she spoke up.

"I'm terrified that she'll never remember."

Rachel lifted her eyes to meet Santana's. The other girl stayed silent, unsure of how to continue the conversation. In her mind, there was no chance that Quinn wouldn't ever remember. Until Rachel had brought it up, Santana hadn't even considered that possibility.

"I won't be able to deal with it if our relationship goes back to the way it was before this year. Getting slushied wouldn't bother me, but if it's Quinn holding that cup, I couldn't take it."

The tiny singer wrapped her arms around herself as all her doubts raced through her mind. Kurt had helped a little yesterday, but apparently not enough. All she could think about right now were the "what ifs". What if Quinn didn't remember? What if Quinn remembered but decided that she didn't want Rachel anymore? What if Rachel ended up doing something wrong to make Quinn never remember? She didn't want to inadvertently mess her chances up, but at the same time, she was dying inside knowing that she should be doing something to help.

"We're not going to let that happen."

Santana's calm tone snapped Rachel out of her head. She scrutinized the Latina, looking for any sign of doubt or deception. Santana returned her gaze confidently.

"There isn't a chance I'm letting Q forget about these last two years. No fucking way."

"What makes you so sure you can do anything about it?"

"Because I always get what I want," Santana replied back cheekily, smirking at the diva. Rachel both was and wasn't shocked at the Cheerio's outlook on the bleak situation. It just wasn't like Santana to not be confident in her own success. Rachel tried to draw from the other girl's certainty.

"But─."

Santana held a hand up, silencing the tiny singer. "No buts. We're getting Q's memory back. Now, I'm asking you again. What's the plan?"

Rachel could see that arguing with the taller brunette would end up nowhere. She also loved that Santana was putting her in charge. They spent the rest of the time trying to come up with ways of jogging Quinn's memory.

"Finn had a good point! Old numbers may bring back some of her memory."

"I'm not following any plan set by Finnept. Plus, why the hell do we care about making her remember old performances? It's the other stuff that's more important."

"What about pictures?"

Santana paused, considering it. "Actually, Berry, that's not a bad idea."

"Wonderful. I've got some from these past few months that would be of great use."

"Dandy," Santana replied dryly before glancing at the clock. "Well this has been fun, but I gots a date with my girl." She stood up from the couch and made her way to the door.

"Santana?" Her hand had just reached the doorknob when Rachel called out uncertainly.

"Yeah?"

"Why are you doing this?" Rachel asked, "I mean, why are you trying to help me? Didn't you like the old Quinn better? It seemed like you had more in common."

Santana snorted. "Maybe, but the old Q was a complete bitch. I used to put up with her bullshit, but there's no way I'd let her get away with it now. I don't ever want to see the old Quinn come back for good." She debated whether to continue or not. "Do you remember that night at the carnival a few months back?"

Her jump from one topic to another confused Rachel, but she answered anyway. "Of course…"

"That was the night that I realized, no matter how batshit crazy it sounds, that you and Q are good for each other. I don't know why or how, but for some reason, you two work. I'm not letting some stupid car accident get in the way of that."

She gave Rachel a genuine smile before opening the door and stepping out. The diva couldn't believe her ears. She and Santana had become friends, but never had the Latina actually voiced her acceptance of her. Rachel climbed the stairs back to her roomed slowly, already feeling the effects of the emotional conversation she had just had.

* * *

_**A few months earlier... (takes place between**_**Pot O'Gold _and_ The First Time_)_**

Quinn had somehow managed to convince Rachel that going to the state fair with Santana and Brittany would be a good idea. While the brunette had become comfortable around Quinn, she was still quite wary of her second biggest tormentor.

Brittany she had no problem with. The tall blonde had been ecstatic when she discovered that she and Rachel could be friends. Much to her girlfriend's chagrin, she'd admitted that she'd always found Rachel to be "super hot" whenever she sang, which caused Rachel to blush profusely.

The diva was now sitting in the passenger seat of Quinn's red VW Beatle, wringing her hands nervously. Quinn glanced over and stilled Rachel's hands.

"Calm down, Rachel. You're going to have a great time."

Rachel was no longer that surprised by Quinn's gestures of kindness, though it had taken some getting used to. Much to her delight, Quinn was actually an incredibly affectionate friend, something Rachel had never expected. They would hug or hold hands almost constantly now, as if Quinn never wanted to break contact with her newfound friend, and Rachel was not one to argue with her.

"Are you sure about this? I mean, did Santana even agree to this willingly?"

Quinn kept her eyes on the road and didn't respond.

"Quinn…" Rachel began to whine. She watched the blonde arch an eyebrow in amusement before her eyes flickered towards her.

"Yes, Rachel, she agreed willingly," Quinn heard her sigh of relief before mumbling, "after Brittany refused to put out for her if she said no."

"Quinn Fabray!" Rachel shouted indignantly, slapping Quinn's arm.

"Ouch! God, Berry, don't you know that you're not supposed to distract the driver?" Quinn winced as she rubbed her arm. She said this with a playful smile, though, showing Rachel that she was only kidding.

"I normally wouldn't unless the driver was making a complete ass out of herself," Rachel turned away and faced the window, trying to hide her growing smile. She loved bantering with the blonde, but would never admit it out loud.

Quinn's eyes grew wide as she responded. "Did Rachel Berry just swear?"

"I believe the situation warranted some harsh language," the diva shot back, crossing her arms. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Quinn shake her head and laugh. The car settled into a comfortable silence as they made their way to the fair.

When they got there, Rachel took a second to breathe before she got out of the car. Surprisingly, Quinn used her preoccupation to her advantage, opening Rachel's door for her.

"Come on. No more stalling," Quinn teased, reaching her hand towards Rachel. The diva huffed and rolled her eyes, but took the outstretched hand. The blonde grinned at her impishly before dragging her towards the bright lights.

"Slow down, Quinn!" Rachel breathed out, unable to keep up. Quinn's pace never faltered. Instead, she tugged her arm even harder.

"Jesus, Q. Calm your tits. You're acting like a kid," came a familiar voice. Both girls turned around to find Santana and Brittany walking towards them, pinkies linked. Rachel smiled at the small gesture. While the two were finally dating, they weren't ready to come out yet. Right now, only Quinn, and consequently Rachel, knew about the couple.

"Hey, Rachel!" the taller blonde beamed down at the shorter girl before wrapping her up in a fierce hug. Rachel was still giggling as she was let down. Santana watched the interaction with a slight scowl on her face, but a twinkle of amusement in her eyes.

"Sup, Berry."

So far, the night was starting off well. Santana had yet to insult Rachel, and Brittany had already showed her enthusiasm. Quinn had set this night up with a goal in mind. She wanted her two worlds to collide; her old friends and her new friend coming together. Hopefully, a carefree night at the fair would accomplish this.

As the night went on however, Quinn realized this wasn't going to be so easy. Rachel was still a little afraid of Santana it seemed. And Santana was not about to give up insulting the diva that easily. Not ten minutes after greeting each other did the two butt heads.

"Are you hungry, Rach?" Quinn asked as the foursome walked by the numerous food stands. Each had a delicious smells wafting from them. She wasn't exactly sure, but Quinn was almost certain that she could smell bacon, too.

The tiny brunette scoffed and replied, "Quinn, I would never eat anything from any of these stands. Not only is there an abundance of animal being served, but I'm sure that any other options they have are hardly vegan-friendly. Did you know that―?"

"Oh my god. If you don't shut your mouth, hobbit, I'll gladly shove a hamburger down your throat," Santana sneered. Rachel instantly quieted down and Quinn shot the Latina a warning glance.

"I'm sorry. I didn't even think about you not being able to eat anything here," Quinn apologized, squeezing Rachel's hand. After casting a cursory look at Santana, Rachel smiled and shook her head.

"Don't be. I ate before you picked me up. I'll be fine. Feel free to gorge yourself on fried animal by-products," she faltered a little as Santana's face turned murderous. Fortunately, Brittany caught her attention.

"San, I want cotton candy. Let's go get some!" Brittany asked, looking at her girlfriend with puppy dog eyes. Santana's icy glare instantly melted as she looked at the tall blonde and nodded. As they walked off, Brittany looked back towards Rachel and winked before asking, "But seriously, meat is made from little animals?"

Rachel nodded solemnly and tried to keep herself from laughing as the blonde's expression turned to horrified and disgusted. Quinn smiled as she watched their interaction. At least those two were getting along.

"She'll come around," Quinn reassured the diva as she linked their arms. Rachel looked back at her doubtfully.

"She hates me, obviously. I'll be lucky if she doesn't end up killing me tonight."

Quinn rolled her eyes at the girl's dramatics and kept pulling her towards a food stand. "She doesn't hate you. And I wouldn't let her kill you. I doubt Brittany would either."

"Well if Brittany says no…"

"…then Santana really has no choice," Quinn finished her sentence with a confident grin.

"I guess that makes me feel a little better," Rachel admitted, finding a new appreciation for the dancer.

The small diva held her tongue as Quinn ordered a bacon cheeseburger from one of the greasy stands. She didn't even try to hide her look of distaste when Quinn took her first bite, though.

Quinn ignored the look, focusing on trying to swallow the gigantic bite she had taken. "Mmmmmf?" she asked, raising her brow.

"Excuse me?"

The blonde took a moment to finish before she repeated herself. "You're excused. Anyway, do you want some?" She held out the burger in front of Rachel's face. She tried to hide her smile as she watched Rachel's face go from her normal color to bright red.

"Wh―no―I," Rachel sputtered, staring wide-eyed at the food offered to her, "I would never _ever_ be even tempted to eat such a disgusting amalgamation of different animal products! Firstly, you have the meat patty, which I'm not even sure could be called beef! Then there's the _extremely_ non-kosher bacon! And the cheese― stop laughing at me!"

By the middle of the rant, Quinn could no longer hold back her laughter. Seeing the diva get all flustered and aggravated was possibly the funniest thing for Quinn to watch. When Rachel had stomped her foot, Quinn lost it. Her burger was now on the ground, long forgotten, her hands too preoccupied with holding her sides.

Rachel waited for the blonde to calm down, crossing her arms over her chest. When it seemed like that wasn't going to happen soon, she began nagging.

"Stop laughing, Quinn!" Pause. "You're being so childish!" Pause. "Quinn, people are staring!" Pause. "Oh, you are so infuriating!" And with that, Rachel turned on her heel to leave.

"Wait, Rachel! Don't leave. I'll stop laughing," Quinn cried out, reaching for her hand. She smiled apologetically at the fuming brunette, who still didn't look convinced.

"I'm sorry?" she tried. There were still tears of laughter in her eyes, and she was barely holding in a giggle. The other girl snorted, shaking her hand out of the blonde's grasp.

"Nice try. You were making fun of me, Fabray!"

"No, I wasn't!" Rachel refused to even look at her now. "Ok, so maybe I was a little bit. But only because you look adorable when you get angry. I can't help it."

The diva faltered slightly, taken aback by the blonde's words. She recovered quickly, however. "Whatever. I still don't like being the butt of someone's joke."

"I'm sorry for laughing at you, Rachel," Quinn responded sincerely, reaching for her hand again. "Am I forgiven?"

Rachel tried to stay mad at the blonde standing in front of her. She really did. But when you've got _the _Quinn Fabray standing humbly in front of you, you can't refuse her. The girl really knew how to put those hazel eyes to use. It was a trait Rachel could appreciate, seeing as she often used her own to her advantage.

"Fine, Fabray. But you're on thin ice," Rachel threatened uselessly, her growing smile betraying her.

"Good. I like living dangerously anyway."

The pair continued to wander throughout the fair, half searching for the other pair and half just taking it all in. Quinn loved all the noises surrounding her: the squeals of excited children, the shouts of rowdy teens, the sound effects emanating from the numerous booths, she loved it all. Rachel loved all the different lights; they reminded her of the bright lights of Broadway and the flashing bulbs of the paparazzi that she'd inevitably have to deal with.

The fair itself was pretty standard, as far as carnivals go. There were plenty of food stands and game booths that were most definitely rigged so that no one could win. People handed over colorful tickets to bored looking workers in exchange for riding on the slightly dangerous looking rides.

And of course, there was a Ferris wheel.

"Please, Quinn. No night at a town fair would be complete without a ride on the Ferris wheel!" Rachel pleaded, dragging the reluctant blonde towards the line. For such a small girl, she had quite a grip.

"I don't know, Rach. It looks like it'll collapse any second…" the blonde muttered, staring up at the giant, wooden monster. She really didn't trust the makeshift handiwork of a couple of travelling carnival folk.

"Nonsense," Rachel waved her off, handing over two tickets to the man operating the deathtrap. She climbed into the seat and patted the spot next to her. "Remember, Fabray, you owe me."

"Oh god," Quinn groaned, "I can't believe I'm doing this." With a shake of her head and a bad feeling in her gut, she sat down next to the brunette.

As the ride started bringing them up, Rachel started to speak. "You know, I've always loved carnivals, or at least the thought of them," Rachel said dreamily. "It's so romantic. Having your date win a prize for you, sharing a cotton candy, and of course, the quintessential kiss at the top of the Ferris wheel. Finn always gets too frustrated at the first part, so we never make it to the end of the date."

Quinn snorted, imagining all the ways Finn's short temper could ruin a perfect date for Rachel. She just hoped there was a chair close by for him to take it out on. Rachel took Quinn's reaction as positive, if only for the fact that she had responded.

Finn was still a sore subject between the two girls. Whenever Rachel brought him up in conversation, Quinn would remain silent, until they moved on. The only explanation Rachel could think of was that the blonde still harbored feelings for the quarterback. But even that didn't explain the cold shoulder she gave to him whenever she had to be around him. Whatever it was, Rachel was not about to risk her new friendship to find out.

The ride came to a standstill as the girls reached the top. Both leaned out to take in the view, momentarily distracted. Distracted enough that it took them a moment to realize that the ride hadn't started back up.

"Quinn. Quinn, what's happening? Quinn, it's not moving!" Rachel asked nervously, her voice rising with each passing second. She frantically grabbed onto Quinn's arm and squealed as her movements rocked the wooden seat.

"Rachel, calm down. Rachel!" Quinn struggled to calm the dramatic diva.

"Quinn, I'm so sorry. You were right. We're going to die on this thing. I should've listened. Oh Barbra, I'll never be on Broadway now!"

"Rachel,' Quinn said firmly, holding the frightened girl still. Her movements were going to tip them over. "We're going to be fine. I'm sure it's nothing serious." Her words were tested by an alarmingly loud creak from below.

Rachel had stopped screaming, but continued shaking like a leaf. She held Quinn's arm in a death grip, only making the blonde hold her tighter. She didn't like seeing the normally fearless girl so scared. She started humming, hoping that music would help calm her down.

It worked a little bit, managing to get Rachel to relax her grip slightly. Quinn took this as encouragement and began singing into the brunette's ear softly. She replaced some of the lyrics with Rachel's name, knowing the diva would appreciate it.

_Dear Rachel,  
Won't you come out to play?  
Dear Rachel,  
Greet the brand new day  
The sun is up, the sky is blue.  
It's beautiful, and so are you  
Dear Rachel,  
Won't you come out to play?_

The scared girl recognized the song as soon as Quinn had begun humming it, but was pleasantly surprised by the lyric change. Quinn could feel her smile into her arm, so she continued, smiling herself.

_Dear Rachel,  
Open up your eyes  
Dear Rachel,  
See the sunny skies  
The wind is low, the birds will sing  
That you are part of everything  
Dear Rachel,  
Won't you open up your eyes?_

As she finished the second verse, the ride began to start moving again. Quinn had gotten Rachel to crack her eyes open when she'd sung the first line, but the movement got her to cautiously remove herself from the blonde's arms and peek over the edge. She was too busy checking to see the look of disappointment on the other girl's face.

It took a few minutes of waiting for some of the other passengers to exit before the girls made it to the ground. True to her dramatic nature, Rachel flung herself out of the seat, and perhaps if the pavement weren't so dirty, she'd have kissed the ground.

Quinn watched the girl's antics fondly as she gracefully stepped out of the seat, ignoring the lackluster apologies of the operator. Rachel blushed when she turned and noticed the blonde staring.

"I apologize for that rather… melodramatic reaction up there," Rachel said sheepishly, "I overreacted a little."

Quinn scoffed lightly. "Just a little bit. But you don't have to be sorry, it's fine."

Rachel smiled before taking the blonde's hand. "Thank you for trying to calm me down. My fathers have told me that once I get going, not much can stop me."

Quinn shrugged, squeezing the diva's hand back. "It wasn't a big deal."

"Still, I appreciate the effort. And the song choice, especially how you personalized it."

A slight blush crept its way across Quinn's cheeks. She wasn't completely oblivious to lyrics and the intimacy they held. When she began humming it, she hadn't realized that the song could be taken another way, until she started singing the lyrics.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. It was the first song to pop into my head." Not a complete lie. Rachel noted Quinn's nervous laughter but attributed it to insecurities about her voice.

"I never took Quinn Fabray as a Beatles fan," she teased playfully.

"I guess there's a lot you don't know about me," Quinn shot back lightly, pushing the brunette's shoulder. Rachel tried to retaliate but her hand was intercepted by Quinn's. Her hand was warm against Rachel's as she entwined their fingers.

"I guess so." The light-hearted feeling of the conversation seemed to dissipate. Brown eyes met hazel as the girls studied each other, both in uncharted territory. The few months they'd spent together had made them both more comfortable around each other, but once in a while, they'd feel the awkwardness from the beginning of sophomore year.

At least, that's what Rachel assumed the silences to be. Why else would they be joking around one minute and the next, not know what to say to each other?

Suddenly, Rachel's view of Quinn was blocked out by the fluffy beak. "Look, Rachel!" Rachel was more thankful for the distraction from the tense moment than confused by the interruption. A grinning Brittany quickly pulled the stuffed animal to her chest and cuddled it lovingly. "Santana won it for me."

The Latina sauntered up from behind the dancer, smiling at the girl's happiness. Quinn quirked an eyebrow at her, to which she responded with a shrug.

"I may or may not have threatened to go all Lima Heights Adjacent on his ass if he didn't give my girl the duck. Whatever, she's happy, I'm happy."

Rachel smiled at the normally coldhearted girl's kind actions. Santana noticed and scowled in her direction. "What, hobbit?"

Quinn immediately took a step, placing herself slightly between the two brunettes. "Santana..."

"What? I don't like the way she's looking at me."

"Leave her alone." Quinn's tone made Rachel a little uneasy; it was too reminiscent of the tone Cheerio Quinn had used on Rachel many times before. Santana seemed unaffected by it, rolling her eyes in response.

"Quinn," Rachel said quietly, placing a hand on the blonde's arm, "I'm fine. She's just being Santana." The Latina noticed the way Quinn relaxed to Rachel's touch and quirked her lips up subtly. That was interesting. She kept her thoughts to herself, however, and went back to sneering at the smaller girl.

"And what the hell do you mean by that, Yentl?"

Rachel froze, carefully thinking out her next words. Thankfully, Brittany came to her rescue again. "Be nice, San. She only meant that you're a little cranky." Rachel suspected that if she had called Santana cranky, nobody would ever be able to find her body.

Brittany turned towards the diva and smiled. "Rachel, go on the roller coaster with me! Quinn hates them and San is afraid of heights―"

"Brittany!"

"So I never get to go on them. Come with me please?" Brittany looked at her with pleading eyes, holding the duck up next to her face. Rachel was powerless against the display of cute.

As the two girls ran off to the ride, Quinn pulled Santana to the side. "What's up with you? Are you trying to cause a problem?"

The Latina shook her hand off. "Bite me." Quinn pulled her back again, concern in her eyes.

"Really. What's wrong?"

Santana turned her eyes downward and frowned. "I don't like her."

"You know she's not that bad. You're not giving her a chance."

Santana shook her head. "No, I meant I don't like her _here_."

Quinn tried to bite back her automatic urge to defend her friend, crossing her arms over her chest. "And why not?"

Santana could still hear the girl's slightly aggressive tone and backtracked. "Calm down. It's got nothing to do with your little Jewish playmate." Quinn tensed, ready to warn her again. "I just… I kinda wanted tonight to be an Unholy Trinity thing. You know, like it used to be."

She looked up and met Quinn's eyes. "I know that it's been kinda my fault that we haven't been hanging out as much, but Brittany and me have finally sorted our shit out so I don't know, I thought we could have a fun night out again."

Quinn didn't really know what to say in response. Santana rarely ever opened up her emotions to anyone except Brittany. They had that in common. She took a few tentative steps towards her friend, trying not to scare her off.

"San, we can have a fun night out. With Rachel."

The Cheerio scowled. "I don't understand why you're all buddy-buddy with her now. What makes her so special?"

Her question made Quinn pause to think. She looked off in the direction that Rachel and Brittany had gone in and sighed.

"Honestly, San? I don't know," she said, turning back to look at Santana, "But I do know that I'm not going to let this friendship slip through my fingers. She's just as important to me as you and Britt. I'm not going to lose her."

The conviction in her voice as she spoke those last words seemed to carry a hidden meaning, but Santana didn't push her. "So the hobbit's gonna be with us for a while, huh?" She gave Quinn a small smile to lighten the mood.

The blonde laughed and smiled back. "Yeah, she's sticking around." She hesitated a second before wrapping her arms around the other girl. "And don't worry. I'm not replacing you or Britt. You'll always be my girls. No matter what."

Santana's first instinct was to scoff and pull away, but she wanted Quinn's reassurance. She needed to know that she wasn't losing her longest friend. "Thanks, Q."

They grinned at each other as they pulled away. Both girls knew to appreciate these rare, genuine moments between them. They had gotten better at opening up this year, but they were still works in progress.

"Come on. Let's go get our girls," Santana finally spoke, signaling the end to the conversation.

"She's not―" Quinn began to argue, before being silenced by Santana's smirk. "Whatever."

As they neared the roller coaster, the screams of the riders grew louder. One shriek in particular stood out from the rest. Quinn laughed as she heard Rachel's voice above everyone else's. Santana caught sight of her girlfriend, arms raised above her head and a huge grin on her face as they rushed past.

Quinn and Santana waited by the exit. Rachel and Brittany were the last to come out. While the diva looked absolutely shaken, the tall blonde was ecstatic, ready to go on again.

"Sorry, Brittany. I don't believe I'm up for another ride," Rachel responded, still a little shaky. The dancer pouted but nodded her head.

"That's ok, Rach. There's always next time."

Rachel's face instantly whitened at the thought of going on again. Quinn noticed and grabbed her hand. "It's getting late, guys. I think I should get Rachel home." The small brunette shot her a grateful look.

Rachel hugged a disappointed Brittany goodbye before turning to the Latina. "Goodbye, Santana. I hope you had a good time tonight."

Santana glanced over at Quinn for a second before responding, "Thanks, Berry. It was fun."

Her response shocked the diva, who had been expecting some kind of insult. She was still reeling from Santana's polite, if not friendly, words, as well as the terrifying roller coaster ride, as she and Quinn reached the car.

They drove in comfortable silence, Quinn allowing Rachel some time to adjust. Rachel seemed a little lost in her head, even when they pulled into her driveway.

"So," Quinn started, snapping Rachel out of her own mind, "Did you have a good time?"

"Oh, yes. Despite my earlier worries, I did enjoy myself," the diva responded, still sounding a little dazed.

"I told you. Santana and Brittany aren't so bad," the blonde teased.

"I stand corrected. Santana even said something relatively nice to me by the end," Rachel said, working her way to sounding more like herself. "I'd call it a very successful evening."

Quinn grinned, trying to hide her laughter. Her plan had worked out. Maybe they weren't all best friends yet, but her old friends had accepted her new one. Her worlds were beginning to collide.

"Well, I guess this is goodnight. I'm glad you had a good time."

Rachel smiled back. "Didn't you have a good time?"

"I had a great time, Rach. I love spending time with you," Quinn said sincerely, still smiling softly at the brunette.

Rachel didn't know exactly what she was thinking as she leaned forward quickly, placing a delicate kiss on Quinn's cheek. Something in the way the blonde was looking at her, or maybe her kind words, made her want to do it. So she did.

She quickly pulled back, trying not to blush. "Goodnight, Quinn." She hurried from the car, afraid of embarrassing herself further, leaving a stunned Quinn behind. The former cheerleader raised a hand to her cheek, the feeling of Rachel's lips on her skin still fresh in her mind. She stayed like that for a while, before finally driving away.

* * *

**Dear Prudence- The Beatles **


	6. Chapter 6

**New Chapter! Again, sorry for the wait. The time in between chapters is probably going to be longer since school just started. Hope you like this one, I had a little trouble writing it. Reviews are appreciated! :)**

* * *

_**A few weeks earlier...**  
_

_"I'm not gonna stand around and watch you ruin your life by marrying Finn Hudson!"_

Quinn's harsh voice cut through the joyful atmosphere of the bridal shop like a knife. She watched as Rachel's excited smile slowly dimmed, and hated herself for being the one to cause it.

All the glee girls had been invited to Rachel's dress fitting after school, an invitation which was met with a wide range of enthusiasm. Now they were all sitting around the stunningly white bridal shop, each dressed in their own bland, pink bridesmaids' dress.

For the past hour, Rachel had tried on dress after dress, parading each in front of her friends, while they, in turn, offered their opinions, some more helpful than others. Tina could only gush about how incredible the wedding would be. Santana only complained about being dragged to the fitting, though Rachel knew that the Latina wanted to be there. And Quinn had remained silent throughout.

Until now.

"Look, I'm not going to. I'm going to start my life with him," Rachel replied, pleading with Quinn to understand. The blonde looked behind her, staring pointedly at Brittany and Santana, who both pretended not to be paying attention.

"I guess I'm alone on this," she said, rolling her eyes before looking back at the diva. "Rachel, the thing that I admire most about you is that you are a girl that has never apologized for your ambition."

This fight had been coming ever since Rachel had told Quinn about Finn's proposal. Rachel had thought that things were awkward before whenever the topic of Finn came up but it had gotten much worse since. Quinn absolutely refused to be in the room with him anymore if Rachel was there too.

Rachel's announcement of their engagement had put an even further strain on their friendship. Quinn had said her opinion and didn't ever bring it up herself, but Rachel could tell she wanted to.

Every time the blonde saw Rachel, she wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until she understood. She knew that Finn was not the boy for Rachel. Their love was fine for high school, but it was nowhere near mature enough for the real world.

She deserved more.

"You're my shining star, Rach. I just wish you could see that Finn's only dragging you down," Quinn started with a soft voice that turned biting as she brought up the boy's name. "The Rachel Berry I know and love wouldn't ever throw her future away for some boy."

The room drew a collective breath. Rachel was trying to ignore the truth behind Quinn's words. Mercedes, Sugar, and Tina were waiting to see if this was going to turn into a full blown fight. Santana and Brittany had caught on to something no one else had.

Quinn had just admitted her love for Rachel.

It was thinly veiled by her other words, but it had been there. Granted, it could easily be taken as a platonic love, but Santana and Brittany knew better. Quinn had inadvertently revealed her true feelings, putting her heart on the line.

It was quiet in the room as Rachel took in Quinn's words. As much as she hated to admit it, they made some sense. But she loved Finn. They were meant for each other. No matter what problems they'd had before, she knew they'd be able to make it work in marriage and in New York. In fact, those same troubles had only worked to make their relationship stronger.

Right?

The brunette internally shook her uncertainties out of her head. It was too late for those kinds of thoughts anyway. She was marrying Finn, and only something short of a disaster could stop her.

"Ok, well, if that's how you feel, I'd prefer it if you didn't attend the wedding," she said, steeling herself for Quinn's reaction. She waited for the girl to yell, to beg, to scream, to do something.

Quinn just nodded curtly, before walking out the door.

Only the loud slamming of the door betrayed what she was actually feeling. Rachel flinched at the harsh sound before exhaling a breath she wasn't aware she'd been holding. It was shaky, but her voice was strong.

"Well, I love this dress."

The other girls quickly rushed over to the diva to fawn over the dress, afraid of an impending meltdown. Their close proximity calmed Rachel enough to let her at least try to forget that she wouldn't have Quinn standing next to her at the wedding.

She was too busy forgetting to notice Santana slip out the door.

* * *

She found Quinn in the parking lot. The only cars there were the glee girls', and Quinn was headed towards hers. Her arms were wrapped around herself, but Santana suspected it wasn't from being cold.

Suddenly, Quinn spun around on her heels, a look of pure desperation on her face.

"Rachel, please─ oh, Santana."

Her face hardened into a mask, but not before Santana saw her disappointment. The former Cheerio may have been able to hide her emotions well during her HBIC days, but not anymore. Not since Rachel had broken her walls down.

The two girls stared at each other in silence, both waiting for the other to make a move. Santana studied the blonde closely, realizing just how tired she looked. The girl standing in front her was not the same Quinn Fabray from sophomore year; she hadn't been for a while now. But she also wasn't the same Quinn from a month ago: the one who had been happy and carefree.

This Quinn was broken.

Santana had seen her at her lowest points; when her parents kicked her out, when she'd had to give Beth up, when she'd broken down over Finn and Rachel before Nationals. But even then, Quinn had never looked so defeated. She'd always had some bit of fight in her, that tiny spark in her eye that said she wasn't about to give up.

Where was that Quinn now?

"So that's it then?" Santana asked, finally breaking the silence. "You're giving up?"

She expected Quinn to lash out at her. She expected Quinn to yell and scream and maybe even come after her. She didn't expect Quinn to shrug.

"It's over. She picked him."

The pain in Quinn's voice sent a shiver down Santana's spine, despite the warm breeze in the air. She recognized the pain; she'd felt it when Brittany chose Artie. It was the pain of knowing that the one person you wanted more than anything didn't want you back.

When the Latina didn't say anything, Quinn turned around to leave. Santana snapped herself out of her own painful flashback to grab the blonde by the arm.

"The hell it is," she challenged, aware of how little a fight the blonde was putting up. "So you got kicked out of the wedding. That shouldn't stop you."

Something flashed in the other girl's hazel eyes, but it disappeared quickly. "Rachel doesn't want me there." She moved to turn away again.

"What the fuck is _wrong_ with you, Quinn?" Santana yelled, yanking her back again. "You're just giving up? You're going to let Rachel get married to _him_?" She stared in frustration and disbelief at a girl she barely recognized.

"If that's what she wants," Quinn replied dully, shrugging her shoulders.

"What if she doesn't want him? What if she wants you?" the brunette asked, desperate for a reaction. She stumbled as Quinn viciously pulled her arm out of her grasp. She'd gotten one.

"She doesn't want me! You _heard_ her say it! She chose _Finn_!" Quinn exploded, finally breaking down. "She will _always_ choose him over me! It's over." She wrapped her arms around herself again, trying to keep herself together.

"I'm done. I'm done trying. I… I can't keep doing this," she continued, averting her eyes. Santana watched as the spark in her eyes dimmed again.

Practically admitting her true feelings for the brunette and still being rejected had done something to Quinn that neither pregnancy nor neglectful parents had been able to. She was giving up, and there was nothing Santana could do about it.

"Q…"

"Don't," Quinn said tiredly, holding out her hands in a shrug, "Just… don't."

And then she walked away, away from the girl to whom her heart belonged. She felt almost relieved in a way, like she could finally move on. She felt like maybe this time, she'd be able to stay away from the heartache.

The feeling didn't last long.

* * *

_**Present day**_

Rachel drummed her fingers impatiently against her desk as she waited for the printer to finally stop its annoying whirring. She hummed to herself unconsciously, resting her chin on her other hand.

From outside her window, Finn beeped his horn. She sighed as she picked up her bag and the finally printed picture. She really hated that Finn no longer bothered to ring the doorbell anymore. What kind of star-in-the-making allowed herself to be summoned by the honk of a horn?

Nonetheless, she smiled at her fiancé as she approached his car. He grinned back, leaning in to kiss her. It was just a small peck, nothing special.

"Morning, babe," he greeted, before driving off. Rachel found her smile drop a little with his choice of words. It was always "babe" or "Rach", never "sweetie" or "baby". Not that she was necessarily a fan of pet names, but still, Finn had never even tried to use them.

"Good morning," she replied, trying to sound a little cheerful. He didn't seem to notice anything odd.

They settled into a comfortable silence as he drove them to school. Rachel settled into the seat, running her thumb over Finn's hand, which was resting on her leg. Usually she'd launch into some random topic and he would listen, but lately, she didn't feel much like talking.

Finn parked the car when they arrived at McKinley and exited. He didn't even wait to let his girlfriend to catch up.

_When had that happened?_ Rachel wondered to herself. _When had Finn stopped opening up doors and waiting for me like a gentleman?_

Again, she shook those thoughts out of her head. Of course, with familiarity comes some changes. Finn was certainly not _required _to do any of those things. Who was she to complain? A lack of gentlemanly behavior was certainly not the worst thing to happen in their relationship.

She followed him dutifully to his locker, waiting as he pulled numerous items from it. He was about to shut the door before she noticed something.

"You forgot your Spanish book."

He grinned sheepishly. "Oh, yeah. Thanks, babe. Mr. Shu always hates it when I forget it." He planted a grateful kiss on her cheek before wrapping an arm around her. As they stopped at Rachel's locker, he withdrew his arms and leaned next to her.

"Guess what? Burt gave me the afternoon off from the shop, so I was wondering if you wanted to do something after school," he said, looking at her with hopeful eyes.

"I'm sorry, Finn. I'm actually going to see Quinn again after school," Rachel replied. She felt slightly bad about it. She could tell Finn wasn't very happy that they weren't spending as much time with each other as they used to.

"Aw, come on, Rach," he pouted, "You're always seeing her. It's not like she's going anywhere." The diva stared at him incredulously.

"That's incredibly insensitive of you Finn. I can't believe you just said that," she said, shutting her locker door and looking at him straight on. He looked at the ground, chastised, before replying.

"Sorry," he mumbled, "We just never get to spend time with each other, is all." He looked at her with sad eyes. The brunette softened and took his hand in her own.

"I know and I'm sorry about that," she said, "But right now, Quinn needs my attention. She needs the people who love her around her."

He nodded dejectedly, but then smiled at her. "I get it."

She kissed him lightly before he loped off down the hallway. Kurt and Blaine passed him on their way over and waved.

"Good morning, Rachel," Kurt greeted with a small smile.

"Hi, guys," she replied, looking at both the boys. Neither of them seemed very happy.

_I guess that makes three of us._

"What's wrong?"

Kurt sighed, throwing a small look at his boyfriend before answering. "Nothing's wrong. We just visited Dave before school. Not exactly a mood enhancer, but everything's fine."

Rachel had completely forgotten about the boy since Quinn's accident. She'd been so wrapped up in helping her best friend that she hadn't even thought about Karofsky or how he was doing.

Blaine noticed her guilt and smiled reassuringly at her. "I guess we've all been spending too much time at the hospital."

She smiled at him gratefully, glancing at Finn, who was chatting with another football player down the hall, out of the corner of her eye. "Well, some of us at least," she sighed.

Kurt looked to where her gaze was. "Ah, I see." The male diva raised an eyebrow at her, interested in what his step brother had done wrong.

She waved him off. "It's nothing. Finn's just…not exactly as concerned as I wish he would be."

"Maybe that's just how he copes," Blaine suggested, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yes," Kurt nodded his head in agreement, "He acted in much the same way when my dad was in the hospital, but that doesn't mean he didn't care." He left out the fact that Finn had also been praying to a cheese sandwich for him to reach second base and not for Burt to get better.

"You're right. I suppose I'm just being dramatic," Rachel replied.

She waved goodbye to the two boys and walked off towards her first class. A month ago, she would be meeting Quinn at her locker right about now. A sigh escaped her lips before she could stop it.

How things had changed.

* * *

Rachel had barely payed any attention in school today; she was far too excited to finally begin her plan to bring her Quinn back. Granted, it was shaky at best, but it was a plan. She clutched at her bag as she entered the hospital, shooting the tired looking nurse at the front desk a bright smile.

The nurses rarely ever gave her trouble anymore. They'd seen her visit so often that they no longer did anything more than look up and smile at her, perhaps with a greeting, when she walked in.

Rachel, in turn, had memorized all of Quinn's regular nurses' names, as well as the ones of those who sometimes worked at the front desk.

"Good afternoon, Anne. I hope your day is going well," she said as she breezed by, eager to see Quinn. Anne was one of the younger nurses, as well as one of the ones whom Rachel was most familiar with.

The older woman laughed, though with little happiness. She noticed Rachel pause and look at her questioningly, to which she responded by pointing at Quinn's door with the pen in her hand.

"You'll see what I mean soon, sweetie."

It was a strange response, but her words did not deter the diva. Quinn had never been the easiest person to deal with, even in the past year, so it didn't surprise Rachel that a few of the nurses weren't the biggest fans of the blonde. Quinn's rough exterior had never seemed to bother Anne before, though.

There was an abrupt change in atmosphere as Rachel entered Quinn's room. Nothing seemed all that different from the last time she had visited. Quinn looked about the same; her leg still in the cast, though the bruises and cuts on her face were healing nicely. Her eye was not nearly as swollen as it had been the day she was brought in.

But Rachel could almost feel that something wasn't quite right. She didn't have long to think about it before Quinn's eyes landed angrily on her form.

"Get out."

Immediately, Rachel took a step back at the harsh tone, a reflex from her days of being bullied by the same girl who was lying in front of her. Quinn's cruel voice worried the brunette, but not for the same reasons it used to.

It had been a little over a week since the accident, and Rachel had been in to visit Quinn every day, besides this weekend. Usually, the blonde greeted her with a nod of the head and a stiff "Berry". Her tone today was a complete change from the cold indifference Rachel had expected.

Something had happened to cause Quinn to revert back to cruelty. As Rachel's eyes quickly darted around to take in the surroundings, she noticed the table that was usually next to the bed had been knocked over. Rachel assumed a food tray had been on it at the time, as some of it had splattered against the wall. Other items were on the ground as well, obviously thrown about in some sort of tantrum.

Rachel recognized the signs quite well.

Her eyes landed on Quinn's arm, specifically, the angry red mark on the crook of her elbow, evidence that the blonde had tried to rip out the IV.

Of course, nothing goes unnoticed by Quinn Fabray. She watched Rachel take in her surroundings and come up with whatever explanation in her head. When Rachel finally looked back at her, she met her brown eyes unflinchingly, her eyes only glancing at the corner for a millisecond.

Unfortunately, Rachel caught the small movement of her eyes. God, when had she become so transparent that even Rachel Berry could read her?

Rachel turned her head slightly, catching sight of what must have caused Quinn's apparent meltdown. Someone had decided that moving a wheelchair into the room was a good idea.

The brunette could only imagine the feelings that Quinn had felt when she saw it. To have the terrible consequence of the accident be practically shoved in her face? Quinn's anger no longer confused Rachel.

Quinn could see the pity in Rachel's eyes as they met hers again. Hazel eyes narrowed in response. She _did not_ need the sympathy of some pathetic loser, let alone from _her._

"Do trannies like you speak a different language or something? Get out!" Quinn spat at the smaller girl in front of her.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that Rachel didn't deserve to have all her anger be directed at her. But this had always been how Quinn coped. Lash out at anyone who makes the mistake of trying to get close.

And Rachel had always been the easiest target ever. Now was no different. Quinn Fabray was angry. She was angry at the doctors and the nurses who had told her she wouldn't be able to walk anytime soon. She was angry with her mother, who had cried when she'd heard the news. She was angry with the world mostly.

So she was going to take it out on Rachel.

"Quinn, I know you must be hurting right now, but―," Rachel started, taking a step closer.

"I'm fine!" Quinn hissed.

"It's perfectly alright for you not to be, Quinn," Rachel said softly, still moving forward.

The blonde scoffed unkindly, "I don't need your sympathy, Manhands." Her voice turned colder as she continued with a sneer. "Even with that chair, I'll still be better than your freakish self."

Rachel hadn't heard Quinn like this in a while. That first day Quinn had woken up hadn't lasted very long. She missed her Quinn, her sweet, caring best friend. Seeing her old bully in the form of her Quinn was affecting her more than she expected it to. She could hardly believe they were the same girl.

Quinn smirked at Rachel's silence. "Finally learned how to keep your giant mouth shut, RuPaul?"

How was it possible that the broken girl in the hospital bed could make Rachel feel so small? She felt like she'd been transported back to sophomore year, where all she'd been was a glee club loser. She half-expected Quinn to pull out a slushie from behind her back.

But that wasn't going to happen. Sophomore year was over. And as much as she didn't remember it, Quinn was Rachel's best friend, and Rachel was determined to get her back.

The former cheerleader watched a subtle change take place in the diva. She straightened up, held her chin higher, and took a step closer.

"Childish nicknames are going to make me disappear. I just want to help you."

"And who _ever_ said I wanted your help?"

"You did." Rachel replied, her words making the blonde pause for a second. For a moment, she looked confused, but she quickly replaced her mask.

"And you believed me? God, you are so stupid. Like I would ever need _anything_ from you!"

Ouch. That hurt. Rachel winced slightly as Quinn hit close to her insecurities about their friendship. Quinn had always been good at finding her weak points.

"You'd be surprised," she replied, walking up to the side of Quinn's bed. The blonde didn't say anything back as she picked up the overturned table and placed something on it. Rachel didn't look back at her once as she left her room.

Her harsh words had left a bitter taste in Quinn's mouth. The way Rachel had looked at her made her stomach twist with guilt. She could hardly even meet the gaze of those sad, brown eyes.

She really was losing it.

For a reason she couldn't really explain, she reached over to the table and grabbed the piece of paper Rachel had left. It was a picture of the two of them. It looked like they were in some kind of park. Quinn's arms were wrapped tightly around Rachel's waist from behind, her head resting on the shorter girl's shoulder. Their cheeks were pressed together, and both of them were smiling widely.

She didn't remember anything about the photo. It hadn't brought back any memories, but it still managed to cause a reaction.

Quinn cried out angrily and tore the picture to pieces. She was so frustrated. Why couldn't she remember anything? Why couldn't the doctors fix her? And why the _hell_ had she chosen Rachel Berry?

She picked up the remnants of the photo and threw them at the knocked over trashcan, ignoring the tears that had begun to blur her vision.


	7. Chapter 7

**So sorry for the longish wait. School's taking up alot of my time, as well as the horrors of applying to college. UGH. It's a shorter chapter than the last three, but I really wanted to put something out. I love reading reviews. If you want, message me on tumblr with any suggestions/ questions.**

**Tumblr URL: faberryfa-ever**

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Life really sucked for Quinn Fabray. Sure, she made it seem easy, but the truth was that life was a bigger bitch than she was.

That stupid chair was still in the corner, serving as a constant reminder of far downhill her life really had gone, seemingly overnight. She'd asked the nurse ─ okay, demanded, really ─ that they take it out. The nurse said she couldn't because the hospital was overstocked and there were no other places to store it.

Quinn was certain the nurse kept it in there to spite her.

Every time she laid eyes on the uncomfortable looking thing, she couldn't shake the thought of not being good enough. She'd dealt with this feeling all her life, but now it seemed more accurate than ever.

She used to be able to climb a pyramid of Cheerios without wobbling; now she couldn't even walk to the bathroom. She felt pathetic in her hospital bed, dependent on the nurses who took care of her.

In fact, right now she wasn't even good enough for the _chair_. Her leg, useless anyway, was still in the cast, and her broken ribs had not healed yet. There was a constant burning feeling in her chest; sometimes she wouldn't be able to sit up until she had her medication.

The absolute worst part, however, was that there was no escape from her self-pity. Her hours were filled with depressing thoughts and wallowing in her misery; not out of masochism, but because there was simply nothing else to do. The television barely worked, and the few channels it had didn't hold her interest at all. Her mother had brought in a few of her favorite books but for some reason even those faithful friends couldn't hold her attention.

Nobody ever came to visit her during the day unless it was the weekend. Her mother was at work. All her friends were at school. She still wasn't sure whether those were the Cheerios, all of whom hadn't shown up yet, or the glee kids, who had.

Her father had not made an appearance either.

Everyday, she hoped he would finally show, kiss her on the forehead and apologize for not coming sooner. She wanted him to wrap strong arms around her, to protect her. She wanted her daddy.

And every day, she was disappointed.

Quinn tried to fight the pressure building up behind her eyes as she found herself, once again, reflecting on what her life had become. Her own father didn't even care enough to visit her in the hospital. And, really, she couldn't blame him.

She was a disgrace. She'd lost her position as captain of the Cheerios─ hell, she wasn't even a cheerleader anymore. Not to mention that she'd been _pregnant_, with Noah Puckerman's kid, no less. Of course her father couldn't bear the shame of her discrepancy.

She was officially a loser, she concluded. It was a hard thing to realize after all she'd done to ensure she'd never be one again. Flashbacks of mean-spirited children and avoiding her own reflection flickered in her mind.

Furiously, she rubbed her eyes, to stop the tears and to block out the images. If there was anything she refused to do, it was breaking down once again. So many of her nights had consisted of her crying herself to sleep, and there was no way she was shedding another tear.

A glance at the clock told her that there were probably some bearable shows on. She flicked the television on and let its incessant hum lull her to almost sleep.

It was only a few hours until a knock came at her door. Quinn knew school was still going on, so it must've been her mother, maybe taking a late lunch to be with her daughter.

She was surprised when Puck walked through her door. Her eyes narrowed immediately, which didn't go unnoticed. He looked like the same, foul boy she remembered. His childish mohawk was still on his head. The one thing missing was his characteristic smirk.

In fact, as she looked closer, something was very different about him. Visually, he remained unchanged, perhaps a bit older but nothing more. No, the change was in his demeanor. He didn't strut into the room; he walked in with his thumbs hooked in his pockets. The constant leering that Quinn had gotten used to had been replaced by nervous glances.

He stood at the foot of her bed, awkwardly hunched over. "Hey," he greeted simply.

"What do you want, Puckerman?" Quinn spoke bitterly, causing the boy to flinch. His face blanched for a second before he sighed.

"I wanted to see you."

"Get out of my room."

"So you remember?" he asked, scratching at the back of his head. Quinn thought she heard a hint of something like regret in his voice, but she couldn't be sure.

"Remember what? That I somehow lost all rational thinking and let you _impregnate _me?" she said, angrily. Puck faltered for a second, being transported back to sophomore year, when Quinn frequently spoke the same way she was now. He recovered quickly.

"How much do you remember?" he continued on, squaring his shoulders. Ever since that first time he visited her and noticed something off, he'd decided to come settle things with Quinn, on his own. Puck would to own up to his mistakes; he wasn't his father.

"How small is that pea brain of yours? What makes you think I want to talk to you about this?"

_Damn, she sounds exactly like she did before_, Puck thought to himself. The voice didn't match her appearance, which belonged to the changed Quinn. It was an unsettling experience for him.

"I _know _you don't want to talk. But like hell we aren't," he stated, firmly, trying to stare her down. She returned his gaze easily, glaring at him until he backed down. He didn't, but the urge to look away was still as strong as it was two years ago.

She scoffed dismissively. "Please. Like you'd ever want to _just_ talk."

His face hardened and he took a step forward. "Don't even pretend like you know me. I'm not the same guy I was before," he said forcefully.

"You mean you've stopped trying to get into the pants of any girl who lets you?" Quinn shot back coldly.

Puck's thoughts immediately went to Rachel, Santana and Mercedes, all three of whom were very important to him. But mostly, he thought about the girl in front of him and all the ways he had wronged her. He hung his head in shame.

"Yeah." He refused to meet Quinn's eyes, scuffing the toe of his boot against the white linoleum floor.

Quinn stopped the biting comment at the tip of her tongue and stared, trying to read him. He was different, even if she didn't want to admit it. He actually looked ashamed of how he acted.

God, even Puck had somehow changed.

While Quinn watched him, Puck hesitantly reached into his back pocket. He pulled out a beat up leather wallet and flipped it open. He stared at it for a moment before looking at her with sad eyes.

It's those eyes that stop her from tearing him apart where he stands. Even though things had changed, she still could. Quinn Fabray was nothing if not an expert on exploiting people's weaknesses. But as she met his gaze, strangely similar to her own, she found herself unable to do it.

"Do you want to see a picture of her?" he asked as gently as he could.

Quinn's first thought was to say no. Why would she ever want to see the child she hadn't even remembered a few weeks before? It was pure curiosity that stopped her, however, and made her nod her head slightly. He stepped to the side of her bed, handing over the small picture he'd just taken out.

"She's almost two," he said as she took the picture, his voice soft and reverent. Quinn didn't reply, but looked on in silence.

When she laid eyes on the small girl in the picture, she nearly gasped. Instead she placed a hand over her mouth, fighting tears for the second time that day. The photograph wiped away any possible doubt in her mind that she had a daughter.

The girl looked exactly like she had as a child. Perfect blonde curls hung at the side of head. She was smiling at the camera with a toothless grin, hazel eyes sparkling in delight. She was perfect.

Puck waited a little, taking in Quinn's reaction. She barely seemed to even register that he was still in the room. He resisted the urge to wipe off the single tear that ran down her cheek as she clutched the small picture.

"Her name is ─."

"Beth," Quinn whispered, "Her name is Beth." She remembered her child. As she looked on, memories of carrying her, morning sickness and fluctuating moods filled her mind. She distinctly recalled giving birth on the night of some performance, the intense pain vivid in her mind. Everything else was still hazy, but her memories of her daughter were clear.

Puck looked on in amazement, shocked that Quinn remembered. This had to be a good thing, right? He'd gotten her to remember at least _something. _He smiled, despite the tension in the air from before. He'd finally done something _right_.

"What else do you remember?" he asked excitedly, leaning closer to her. Quinn's hazel eyes flickered to his face, but only for a second, as if she couldn't bear to tear her eyes away from the photo.

"I remember… I remember holding her for the first time," Quinn whispered, her voice softer than Puck had ever heard from her before. "She was so small and so… warm." Her voice cracked, but for once, her tears weren't from sadness.

He didn't interrupt her. What she was feeling right now wasn't something he should rush or push. This moment wasn't his to take. No matter what other people said about him, Noah Puckerman was a good guy.

"And you sang that stupid song to me, in the Glee club," she choked out, laughing a little. She smiled at him, receiving a familiar grin in return, before returning her gaze to the picture. She couldn't get enough of it; she'd never have enough time to memorize her daughter's laughing face.

"And I remember…" she trailed off as she processed what exactly she was recalling. The memory was not one of either Puck or even Beth, really.

It was of Rachel.

_Quinn sits outside the choir room on a bench, staring at the ground. She's not exactly sure when her life had started to fall apart, but then again, she suspects it had never really been put together in the first place. _

_ Her hand rests lightly on her stomach, where her secret is becoming more and more noticeable as time passes. She doesn't look up when a blue argyle sweater fills her vision. _

_ "I'm so sorry. I-I fully understand if you want to beat me up," comes a familiar voice. The cheerleader looks up to find a sincerely remorseful Rachel gazing down at her. "If you can, just try to avoid my nose." _

_ Rachel squints her eyes shut in anticipation of a blow that never comes. Quinn only stares at the smaller girl in front of her. It would be so easy for her to hate Rachel for what she'd done, so easy to blame her for all her troubles. But Quinn knows that the only person at fault is herself. _

_ "I'm not mad at you." Rachel opens her eyes in shock. "You only did what I wasn't brave enough to do. Tell the truth" _

_ The brunette girl looks at her in disbelief and sadness, shaking her head ever so slightly. She tries to say something, but for once on her life, can't find the words. Instead, she takes a seat next to her former tormentor. _

_ "I was being selfish when I told him," she says, not exactly sure where she's going with this. She just knows that she wants to make Quinn feel better. "I wanted to break you two up so he would want to be with me."_

_ Again, Quinn knows she should hate Rachel for telling Finn. But instead, her explanation only fills the blonde with even more sadness, for reasons she doesn't understand. _

_ "And now neither of us have him."_

_ The blonde looks up at the ceiling, trying to keep her tears at bay. "I have hurt so many people." Finn, Puck, the girl sitting next to her. She's like a cancer, poisoning everything she touched. Her life is crashing in around her, and anyone brave enough to come close to her is going to get hit with the shrapnel. _

_ "Can you go now? I just really want to be alone," Quinn says, feeling a tear already leak down her face. She doesn't really want Rachel to go; her presence is oddly calming. But she knows that if the diva stays near her, she'll only get hurt. Everybody does._

_ When Rachel leaves, Quinn goes back to staring at the ground._

She snapped back to the present quickly, realizing that Puck was waiting for her to continue. More tears had escaped down her face, falling onto the scratchy hospital bed sheets. Quinn didn't want to tell Puck about her and Rachel's conversation. It was something intimate, for only the two of them to share.

"And I remember lying to Finn that entire time," she finally said, looking down. Puck's smile faded as he watched Quinn's self-hatred overwhelm her once again. He hated seeing her like that, but he didn't know what to do.

"You should go," the blonde finally said, lifting her eyes to meet his. They're still as beautiful as ever, even when shining with tears. He nods understandingly, reaching for the picture.

She pulled away quickly, the photo firmly in her hand. "Can I… could I just keep this? For now?" she asked, feeling extremely vulnerable. The mohawked boy immediately shoved his hand in his pocket, smiling at her a little.

"It's yours. I can always get another," he shrugged, already making his way out the door. Quinn's head snapped up at his words, curious as to what he meant. She didn't question him though. She'll ask him about it some other time.

As he closed the door, she let her gaze fall back on the picture of her daughter. She didn't spend any time analyzing the newfound memory of Rachel, but focused on the few she had of Beth.

Rachel hadn't shown up at the hospital for a few days, so Quinn wasn't surprised that she didn't visit that day. Her latest tantrum must have finally scared the poor girl away. As much as she regretted saying those things to Rachel, she was glad for the alone time.

She didn't have to think about the fact that there was a wheelchair in the corner of her room, or about how her father didn't seem to care at all about her anymore. She forgot about the identity crisis she was going through and how much her chest was throbbing as the pain medication wore off. All she wanted right now was to think about her perfect little thing.

The next morning, the nurse found her fast asleep, her fist curled tightly around the picture.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hi! In honor of broadwaybound2016's review, I give you chapter 8! I'm so sorry about the wait. School is hectic and college applications are a pain in my butt. I'm a bit iffy on my portrayal of Artie so feel free to offer some constructive criticism on that or anything else. **

**Last but not least, I'm giving a (very late and much deserved) shout out to all of those who reviewed: Thank you to broadwaybound2016, Silversaphire96, mysticmelodies, olacindy, BonesFABERRY, quickly, pinkcrazyness, Love-Knows-No-Boundaries-101, RVNola546, gleeken, FanofChrisCMaxA1, and CobaltBlue94.  
**

**A special thanks to , Devin Jaste, Chocolatito70, and Jamber111 who all reviewed more than once. Phew. This is long enough. Enjoy!**

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"Rachel!"

The diva in question quickly spun around, recognizing the voice easily. A familiar mohawk bobbed its way through the crowded hall over to her locker. The boy whom it belonged to grinned at her excitedly.

"Noah Puckerman! How dare you skip our mandatory after school Glee club meeting yesterday? Not only is it bad manners but it also inspires laziness in others!" she demanded, placing her hands on her hips and stomping her foot slightly. A few students looked at her curiously, but that hardly mattered to her.

He waved her off quickly. "Forget that shit. I cut class to see Quinn."

She dropped her stance instantly and turned back to her locker. Puck heard her make a noncommittal noise as she faced away, suddenly very interested in her school books.

"Do you want to hear about it or not?" he asked, tilting his head to see her face. It took her a moment to answer but eventually she turned back around.

"Of course I do," she answered, placing a well practiced show smile on her face. It wasn't that she wasn't interested; far from it actually. She was just trying to distance herself from the blonde.

It was quite obvious to her from the last visit that Quinn was hurting. To have a constant reminder that you may never walk again be constantly shoved in your face couldn't be helping her, either. And when Quinn Fabray hurts, she lashes out.

It would do neither of the girls any good for Rachel to visit right now. She missed Quinn terribly, but they both needed her to stay away, for the sake of their friendship, at least for now. Quinn needed time to adjust and Rachel to collect her thoughts.

She had no idea if the picture had sparked any remembrance in her friend, but she desperately hoped so. That picture was one of her favorites, capturing a special moment between the two that she hoped to never forget.

Puck's voice snapped her out of her head as he rambled on.

"─and shit, Rach, she sounded just like she used to."

The small singer sighed tiredly in response. "Noah, please refrain from using that kind of language."

"Sorry," he responded, barely pausing before continuing on. "Anyway, she was just like staring at me and I swear to God, I thought she was gonna kill me something."

Rachel couldn't stop herself from snorting at his words. It sounded very much like the Quinn she had dealt with.

"But then I pulled out my picture of Beth, and she completely changed. She just kept staring at it. And she remembered Rach, she remembered her _name_."

The brunette watched Puck as he spoke, his face lighting up like she hadn't seen before. The usually indifferent boy looked so proud of himself and happy that she couldn't help but smile. Until his words hit her.

Quinn remembered. She was finally beginning to get her memory back. The news was bittersweet, Rachel realized as she thought. On the one hand, Quinn was finally making progress. On the other, it hadn't been her to help the blonde do it.

"I did it. I actually did something right," Puck said breathlessly. Again, his enthusiasm pulled Rachel from her own depressing thoughts. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him tightly.

"That's wonderful news," she said, pulling away to look him in the eyes. "Really, you're amazing, Noah Puckerman."

He grinned at her sincerely before placing a familiar smirk onto his face. "Do I get a reward?" he asked suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows at her. She let out a loud laugh, which drew the attention of some of the other kids, and smacked him in the stomach.

In all honesty, a year ago Rachel would have been fairly offended by his question, but a lot had changed since junior year. Getting closer to Quinn also meant getting closer to Puck, and Rachel found that they had easily formed a close bond with each other. She now saw Noah Puckerman as less of an old fling, and more like an older brother, which made his lascivious comments even more amusing to her.

"Ouch," Puck complained, rubbing his stomach, though they both knew Rachel's swings hardly carried any weight to them. She patted his abdomen fondly in apology before feeling someone's arm drape over her shoulder.

"Hey, babe. Bro," Finn said, nodding in his friend's direction. Rachel hardly liked being greeted in much the same way as Finn would greet Puck, but she kept that to herself. Instead, she dutifully accepted a kiss on the cheek.

"Sup. Oh anyways, Rachel, when are you seeing Quinn again?"

The brunette felt her fiancé stiffen at her side and she looked at him questioningly before answering. "I'm not exactly sure right now, but when I do, I'll be sure to tell you, Noah."

"Cool. See ya, bro. Take care of my Jewish American princess," Puck said to Finn, winking at Rachel before sauntering away.

Rachel looked up to give her significant other a real greeting and saw Finn watching Puck walk away with his eyes narrowed in thought.

"Are you ok?"

The taller boy glanced down at her, then back up, before finally settling his features into a lopsided grin. "Yeah. Totally fine, babe," he replied, leaning down to kiss the diva. She returned it, but refused to drop the subject.

"Finn, you seemed concerned. You had your "math problem" and "reading" face."

"It's nothing… just, I don't know, you and Puck seemed kinda close."

An urge to roll her eyes washed over Rachel, but she fought it off. This was not a new conversation between the two, and frankly, she was a little tired of it. Her friendship with Puck had of course sparked some curiosity, however, the most came from her boyfriend.

"He was just telling me about his last visit with Quinn. It was very good news, actually. It appears as though Quinn may be getting her memory back, or at least some of it."

The smile that Finn gave her was hardly worthy of the great news, but Rachel let it slide. She'd been doing that a lot lately.

* * *

A stray fry hit Rachel in the shoulder as the teens around her grew louder. She fixed them all with her patented glare until she found the culprit: Puck. He looked at her sheepishly before flicking another fry in Sam's direction.

The brunette rolled her eyes and turned to verbalize her annoyance to an empty seat. Her heart ached as she realized that her best friend wouldn't be sitting there any time soon. Sometimes, when everyone was joking around like this, it would be so easy for Rachel to forget that the blonde wasn't sitting next to her; she was in the hospital, recovering from a brutal car accident.

Forgetting. It was spreading like wildfire apparently.

Kurt noticed the diva staring forlornly at the abandoned seat, wishing he could make Rachel happy again. He wrapped a supportive hand around her clenched fist, breaking her gaze and bringing her eyes to meet his.

"She's ok, Rachel," he said warmly, squeezing her hand.

"I miss her," Rachel replied absentmindedly.

"She's not that far away." Kurt knew what she really meant; what he didn't know was how to make her feel better.

"It's not the same. Even when I'm physically with her, I'm almost certain she wants nothing to do with me."

"And I'm almost certain that isn't true. She's adjusting. Give her some time."

All Rachel felt like she was doing was giving the girl some time. Everything in her wanted to force Quinn to remember, to get back to the way she was before the accident. That's just how she'd always handled things.

Quinn was the one who taught her that she pushed too hard sometimes, but without Quinn telling her when to rein it in, Rachel felt lost.

"Didn't you tell me that they're introducing her to the wheelchair? That's a lot to handle, even for Quinn," Kurt continued. Neither he nor Rachel noticed Artie listening to their conversation.

Rachel responded with a small nod, though she hardly felt reassured. The fair-haired boy dropped the conversation, knowing that the diva was done talking. He moved on to a discussion about _The Book of Mormon, _which he was dying to see. The diva added her own two cents in, but he could tell her heart wasn't in it.

After the bell rang, Artie caught up to Rachel, who was lagging behind the others as they made their way to their next classes. She'd hoped to see Finn at the end of the period; she had no idea where he was or why he missed lunch.

"Hey, Rachel."

"Oh," Rachel said, surprised that he was talking to her. They'd never been particularly close. "Hello, Artie."

"Uh," he began, scratching at the back of his head while Rachel waited patiently, "I heard you and Kurt talking about Quinn..."

"Oh... Oh!" the brunette paused before a look of realization came upon her face. "Did we say anything offensive? My deepest apologies if we did. Neither Kurt nor I meant─"

"Nah, you two were fine," he cut her off before she could begin an hour long ramble. "I actually just wanted to see how Quinn was taking it."

Rachel hung her head slightly. "I actually haven't seen her for a few days. I came by the first day they brought the chair in, and Quinn was not exactly... receptive to the idea."

Artie gave her a small smile. "Most people aren't."

A question popped into her head immediately but she hesitated, knowing how easy it was for her to offend people. She bit her lip in contemplation, wondering if she should even ask this of Artie.

He seemed to have something on his mind as well as he studied her. "Can I tell you something, Rachel? To help you with Quinn, I mean."

"Of course. I'll accept any help you have to offer," she replied enthusiastically.

"Don't pull away from her. It's a hard time for you too, not just her, I know, but the worst thing you could possibly do is avoid her. Support her, show her that you'll be there for her."

Artie noticed Rachel open her mouth to say something and raised a gloved hand to stop her. "I've been in her position. I know what it's like to have people pull away when you already feel helpless enough."

The normally verbose diva was at a loss for words. It was almost creepy the way Artie seemed to read her intentions. "Th-thank you, Artie. I'll certainly keep that in mind."

He nodded, looking pleased with himself. He had already turned on the spot and was rolling away when Rachel called out to him.

"Wait! Could I ask you to do something?" She stepped in front of him, careful not to lean in too closely.

He paused, looking at her uncertainly. This would not be the first time Rachel had asked for a favor, but her plans that involved him rarely went well. Three words: Run Joey Run.

"It depends…"

"Oh, it's not for me…well, not exactly," Rachel added hurriedly. "I was just wondering if you could perhaps go see Quinn and talk to her."

A look of pure terror crossed the bespectacled boy's face. "You want me…to talk to her…alone?" His eyes darted around as he leaned forward towards her conspiratorially, as if a certain blonde would be able to hear him. "Isn't she still, like, _cray cray_?"

"She is not, as you call it, _'cray cray'_, Artie Abrams! She lost her memory!" Rachel shouted indignantly.

"Sorry, sorry!" he held up his arms in apology. "It's just… she's back like she used to be, right? Head Cheerio Quinn?" A slight shudder ran down his spine as he said the last part, as if he were imagining the slushies she used to order. Or maybe he was thinking about her icy glare.

The annoyed diva took a deep breath and softened, uncrossing her arms from her chest. She knew how the boy felt. Every time Quinn fixed her with a hard stare in the hospital, Rachel half-expected a grape slushie to be thrown her way. A majority of the glee club used to walk the hallways in fear of Quinn Fabray, Rachel probably more so than the others. Artie's hesitance made complete sense.

"She's still Quinn. She may not recall everything from these past two and a half years, but she is not the same person she was in sophomore year either." Artie still looked unconvinced.

It was time to bring out the big guns (though Rachel hated that phrase because it was so unnecessarily violent).

"Please, Artie. No one knows what she's going through except you. If anyone can help her, it's you. She needs someone to talk to who understands her," Rachel pleaded, using her best pout on the poor boy. She really hoped he'd agree. This could end up being the best thing she could do for Quinn at this point.

Artie stared at the tiny girl in front of him incredulously. How could someone's eyes get _that _huge?

"Okay! Okay, I'll do it," he cried out, throwing his arms into the air again. A delighted squeal escaped the diva as she stepped closer to him, holding her arms wide open. She stopped when Artie rolled back in alarm. She took a small step backwards and clasped her hands together.

"I'm going to hug you right now, alright?" she asked respectfully, keeping her distance.

She waited patiently until he nodded hesitantly before throwing her arms around his shoulders, and in the process almost knocking him and the chair over. She left the cafeteria feeling quite accomplished, while Artie stayed in the same exact spot, wondering what the hell had just happened.

* * *

Quinn Fabray was lying down on her hospital bed (there wasn't much else she _could_ do), waiting to drift off into a short nap when a light knock came at her hospital door. Her brow wrinkled in confusion. The knock was neither the loud, obnoxious knock of Rachel, the polite one of her mother, nor the rude barging in of Santana; Quinn had no idea who was visiting her.

She told whoever it was to come in. It was the boy with glasses who had visited her when the rest of the glee club had. Her gaze focused in on the wheelchair he was in, her eyes narrowing slightly, but still dangerously.

"Um…h-hi, Quinn," he greeted nervously, lifting his hand up a little.

"Hi," she replied coolly, the only change in her expression being a slight raise of her eyebrow.

"How are you?" he asked after an awkward moment of silence.

"Peachy," she deadpanned, keeping her face impassive. She liked that she could still make people squirm under her gaze. Watching the boy push his glasses up his nose anxiously and keep his eyes mostly on the ground almost made her happy, if she ignored the unexpected twinge of guilt in her stomach.

The boy, she was pretty sure his name was Artie, was the first non-Cheerio, non-football playing glee club member to visit her, besides one Rachel Berry of course. As far as she could remember, Artie fell under the category of classmates she either tormented of ignored the existence of. But now, she was supposed to be at least friendly towards him. It left her with an uncomfortable uncertainty about where she stood.

Artie tried to look at anything but the piercing hazel eyes of the most intimidating person he'd ever met. Eventually, his own blue ones rested on the wheelchair stuck in the corner, seemingly forgotten, or more likely, wished to be forgotten.

He rolled his way over to it, his curiosity getting the better of him. He'd always had an interest in the make and models of wheelchairs ever since he found himself in one. The one they'd given Quinn was nothing special, a standard model that was given to every hospital.

The blonde watched him closely, slightly aggravated with and slightly interested in what the boy was doing. Finally, her annoyance won over.

"Do you mind?" she snapped, her voice causing Artie's head to snap up.

"Sorry," he apologized, but returned to studying the chair. "Just checkin' out your new ride."

Quinn rolled her eyes but didn't say anything, unsure of what might come out of her mouth if she did.

"A few years old," the boy mused out loud as he circled around. "But still in good condition. The ex-Cheerio couldn't help but quirk her eyebrow again. He was actually _judging_ her wheelchair.

"I'm not sure about the color. I mean, mint green? That is ridiculous." Quinn couldn't tell if Artie was serious or just trying to make her laugh, though she suspected it was a mixture of both. She jumped when he brought his hand down on the seat quickly.

"Not so comfy either," he said, shaking his head. His eyes met Quinn's and she gave him a small smile, surprising them both. He was nice, a little odd but nice, and he wasn't asking her a million questions. He was a refreshing change. Artie's confidence grew at the smile, as he turned and rolled towards the bed.

"The real test, however, is whether or not yours has a cup holder," he stated. Quinn tilted her head in confusion.

"You have a cup holder in yours?" she asked skeptically. His face fell slightly.

"Well…no, but still, yours would be ballin' if it did," he admitted. Quinn let out a small chuckle at his words. She wasn't sure whether it was the way Artie seemed to think he wasn't Caucasian, or if it was the absurdity of his statement, but she laughed. He may have been a nerd, someone she was supposed to slushie, but he was the first person to get her to feel anything besides anger and bitterness when it came to the wheelchair.

"I've been trying to install some kind of MP3 player in mine. That way Mrs. Adams can't take it away from me during study hall," Artie continued, hoping to get Quinn to smile more. He succeeded, as the image of the strict elderly woman trying to take away the boy's chair filled the blonde's mind.

He took a deep breath to steady himself before he spoke. "It gets better, you know." Quinn's eyes immediately shot to his, the hint of her smile disappearing quickly. She silently dared him to patronize her, like everyone else had been doing with her: the doctors, the nurses, everyone. Instead, he seemed to deflect the attention away from her.

"Do you want to know what I did when I heard that I needed the chair?"

His question shocked her, but she nodded anyway. Anything to keep the attention off herself.

He sighed before launching into his story. "I acted like a complete brat. I was eight and stupid and I didn't understand why I couldn't move my legs anymore but I did know that everyone felt sorry for me. So I acted like a spoiled diva." Quinn snorted at the odd description of the boy in glasses sitting in front of her. He smiled back and continued on.

"Really, I was just like a little Rachel and Mercedes. I ordered my dad around, demanding whatever I wanted, just because I could. A couple of times I threw tantrums just to see if I'd get in trouble. I didn't." Quinn winced as she recalled her little fit a few days earlier.

"I didn't even care that my dad was hurting too. I was a dumb little kid, too mad at the world to even think about anyone else. It wasn't until my aunt came over and verbally smacked me down that I stopped acting out. She told me how badly I was behaving, and how it wasn't helping anyone, especially me. She told me that instead of taking out my pain on other people, I should try to make the best of my situation."

"It sounded cliché, but it helped. Even when I learned that I will never be able to walk again, I just remembered what she told me. Thinking that way helps, a lot, even if you don't think it will."

Artie waited for her to respond. Sometime during his story, she'd looked away from him and down at her sheets. His words had hit a little too close to home for her, and at that moment, she was experiencing a myriad of emotions. One side wanted to tell the boy to fuck off, that he didn't know her. Another wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. Neither of those sides won when she looked back up again.

"Thank you," she whispered, "I mean, thanks for telling me that. It was…nice." She couldn't help but return the bright smile that Artie gave her.

"I'm glad I could help you and Rachel."

"Rachel?"

"Yeah. She's the one who told me I should talk to you," Artie answered, slightly confused. He checked his watch before adding, "I have to go. My dad's waiting. Bye, Quinn."

She waved goodbye before lying back down with an audible thump. She'd thought Rachel had given up on her, since the diva hadn't shown up for days. Maybe she was wrong. Just thinking about whether or not she _wanted_ to be wrong hurt her head, so she closed her eyes, eventually drifting off into a belated slumber.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey... Sorry this has taken me so long. I promise, as soon as all the college app stuff is over I'll be a lot better at updating. Consider this a holiday present to all my lovely readers! **_  
_

**PS Reviews make a great gift hint hint ;)**

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_A few months earlier…_ **(Takes place between Hold On to Sixteen and Extraordinary Merry Christmas)**

"You know, this movie isn't quite as horrible as your last few choices─" Rachel started, before letting out a girlish squeal and burying her head in Quinn's arm. A masked man had appeared at the edge of the screen, unbeknownst to the lead girl, just as she was speaking.

It was Friday night, a night designated solely for Quinn and Rachel time. This weekly tradition had started in the early weeks of their friendship and had stuck since. Plus, Fridays were Santana and Brittany's date nights, so they knew they wouldn't be bothered by the couple. Sometimes they watched a movie, sometimes they'd venture outside of their houses, but no matter what, Friday night was spent together. Tonight was movie night; specifically one where Quinn got to pick. Naturally, she chose a horror flick.

It was the safest choice. Scary movies never reminded Quinn of B─ her, or anything else she'd lost. They were easy, predictable. Any romance at the beginning was soon lost to violence and gore. An added bonus was a terrified Rachel snuggling up to her.

"How can she not even notice that person standing there?" Rachel asked disbelievingly, pointing at the screen. "You know, this is why we always need to be cautious when my fathers or Judy are away. People like that are out there! ...Did we lock the doors?"

Quinn groaned, realizing her mistake. Perhaps _The Strangers_ was not the best movie to show the already neurotic diva.

"Furthermore," Rachel continued, oblivious to the blonde's train of thought, "Doesn't she realize how bad cigarettes are for you? I think it's highly ironic that she's going to die all because she sent her boyfriend out for carcinogen-laced products."

"Um, Rachel," Quinn coughed, lifting up her sleeve to reveal the nicotine patch on her arm. Quinn had only recently begun to quit smoking, mostly due to Rachel's insistence. Despite the brunette's constant badgering about the dangers, Quinn found the habit hard to break. She liked the taste of the smoke, the way it burned her lungs in a satisfactory way, the look of it as it billowed in the air when she exhaled. Holding the cigarette in her hand gave her an odd feeling of warmth, and not from its burning tip. Most all, it gave her a feeling of control, something she seemed to lack these days.

She missed it, but she was glad to give it up for Rachel. Once the girl had stopped with the pamphlets from Miss Pillsbury's office and the PowerPoints, and began solely relying on her pout, the blonde couldn't find it in herself to refuse. Now she was stuck with an almost constant headache and the stupid patch, but at least Rachel was happy.

The girl in question looked over and faltered slightly. "O-oh, well, the things I was saying were merely my own musings, and in no way reflect on you or your…past choices."

Quinn raised a thin eyebrow at her mediocre cover-up. "Really? Because it sounds like you're just judging me."

"Of course not! Quinn, I─" Rachel was quick to reply, until she noticed the smirk that the blonde was trying to hide behind a handful of popcorn and realized that she was being teased.

"Ugh, you are just so…" Rachel huffed, trying to find the right word. Quinn giggled around a mouthful of food at Rachel's frustration. '_She looks so cute when she's annoyed,' _Quinn thought to herself. In retaliation, Rachel grabbed the bowl of popcorn away from Quinn, causing a small pout to form on the blonde's lips.

"Not so funny now, is it Fabray?" Rachel asked haughtily, holding the food hostage. A second passed as she waited for the ex-cheerleader to lunge at her, or something to that effect. Instead, Quinn remained where she was, staring pitifully at the spot where the bowl had been before Rachel had snatched it away.

Sometimes, Rachel couldn't help but be surprised at her friendship with the untouchable Quinn Fabray. Especially times like now, when Quinn was sitting next to her on her couch, looking adorably forlorn, with an expression incredibly dissimilar to the cold glare Rachel used to receive. How Rachel had managed to befriend her former archenemy (because yes, high school rivals could be considered arch nemeses), she wasn't completely sure, but she counted herself lucky that she had.

While Rachel was distracted by her thoughts, Quinn shot her arm out quickly─ she _was_ a former Cheerio, after all─ and reclaimed the popcorn. She made a small noise of self-satisfaction and began happily munching away again, paying no mind to the surprised brunette next to her. _'God, she's so cute,'_ Rachel thought to herself. She caught herself starting to smile before remembering that she was supposed to be mad at the blonde. Crossing her arms across her chest, she quickly schooled her features into a frown.

"You are exasperatingly childish."

"I believe the term is charming," Quinn replied flippantly, keeping her eyes on the screen. Rachel was bothered by a lot of things, like laziness and disorganization and Mr. Schuester's need to always sabotage her, but being ignored was definitely at the top of the list. She decided to take away the one thing she _knew _Quinn hated being without.

You wouldn't think it, but Quinn tended to be quite affectionate, at least with Rachel. Considering the blonde's somewhat standoffish attitude towards her past boyfriends, Rachel was pleasantly surprised that she did in fact enjoy affection. In fact, there was almost always some sort of physical contact between the two of them. A brush of their shoulders together, hands clasped in the other's, fingers lightly tracing the other's arm, things like that. Rachel suspected the touches gave Quinn some sort of comfort, though she didn't expect the blonde to admit it.

"I hope you enjoy using an actual blanket to keep yourself warm for the rest of the evening," Rachel threatened, starting to pull away.

"You wouldn't," Quinn called her bluff, hazel eyes still twinkling with mirth. With a defiant look, the diva scooted herself down the couch, away from her. For a brief second, Quinn's infuriating grin faded, but it returned quickly and she faced the TV again.

"We'll see how long you last," she smirked just as one of "the strangers" appeared on screen. Rachel was able to hold back a squeal, but she still jumped in her seat. No matter, she was not about to lose to Quinn Fabray. She steeled herself to the frightening display on the screen. She could do this. She was Rachel Berry, a Broadway-bound prodigy, if she said so herself; she could stand the remaining 45 minutes of this film.

She lasted about 10 minutes.

* * *

"How's your Yale application going?" Rachel inquired lazily, twirling a piece of soft, blonde hair between her fingers absentmindedly. The movie had ended a while ago; now the two girls were watching reruns of _Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives_, the usual request of Rachel's after being forced to watch a scary movie.

The brunette's body was draped over Quinn's as they both reclined on the couch, limbs tangled together. The empty, forgotten bowl had overturned at some point, but neither girl particularly wanted to get up to get it.

"Almost done. Just putting the finishing touches on my essay," Quinn replied, smiling down at Rachel.

"Nervous?"

She shrugged. "I guess. But it's a good nervous, you know?"

A content hum came from Rachel as she snuggled in closer. "That's nice." Quinn could tell the tiny girl was ready to fall asleep. Her usual verbosity usually disappeared when she was tired.

The pair relaxed further into a comfortable silence as they watched Guy Fieri travel across the country. Quinn noticed brown eyes begin to flutter closed and smiled to herself. She waited for the tell-tale signs ─ deeper breathing, her soft snore, etc ─ before speaking.

"Rachel?" No response.

"Rach, you know what I've realized recently? I don't think Barbra Streisand's that talented," Quinn tested, smirking at her words. There was no way the diva could feign sleep through them. Rachel stayed still, though, allowing the blonde to relax further.

A few minutes later, once she was absolutely sure the girl on top of her had fallen asleep, she pressed a soft kiss against Rachel's forehead. The brunette's brow relaxed slightly, a light hum escaping from her lips.

"Night, Rach," Quinn whispered, pausing for a second before continuing, "I think I love you." She waited a tense second, like always, to see if Rachel would respond. The brunette didn't react at all; she never did. Finally, Quinn settled in, happy to fall asleep with Rachel in her arms.

* * *

Her physical therapist was a bitch. Ok, no, she was actually a nice lady who Quinn probably would have liked, or at least tolerated, in any other situation. It was just that her PT (physical therapy, but she didn't have the patience to say the full title) was the most frustrating and infuriating thing she's ever done. Worse than what she was beginning to remember about being on the Cheerios. All she could do was just lie there, willing her body to cooperate. She hadn't felt this powerless since her Lucy days.

And that put her in quite the bad mood.

"Quinnie, you're doing so well," Judy encouraged her daughter on as she pushed herself down the hall.

"Don't call me that," Quinn hissed lowly through clenched teeth. The doctor had her in the wheelchair every few hours to get her muscles used to it. Her arms felt like they were on fire.

Judy took her daughter's acerbic attitude in stride; she was quite used to it, after all. "Almost there, sweetie."

Quinn huffed, half in annoyance and half in exertion, pushing on the wheels one last time to finish off the lap around the children's ward. She slumped in her seat, long past trying to hold on to her dignity, and her mother took over.

"You're improving so much, Quinnie. I'm so proud of you," Judy said cheerfully, applauding the younger blonde's progress as they made their way back to Quinn's room.

The former cheerleader fought back a biting comment, settling for rolling her eyes. Her mother's encouraging words were beginning to grate on her nerves, but she couldn't deny the warm feeling that filled her chest when her mother said the words "I'm proud of you". She couldn't remember a time before she woke up in the hospital where either of her parents had said they were proud of her.

"Are you hungry? I can bring you something up from the cafeteria."

She shook her head, choppy blonde locks falling in front of her face. Her mother gently pushed her bangs out of her eyes and smiled at her before helping Quinn back into her bed. Both blondes knew it would take a bit more practice before the younger girl could get up on her own.

Judy patted her daughter's head lovingly once she got settled, moving a few stray hairs into place at the same time. Quinn let her fuss over her for a minute before shaking her off.

"I'll be downstairs if you need anything, dear," the older woman said as she walked out of the room with a warm smile. It was still incredibly disconcerting for Quinn to see her mother so lucid, so…human. There were few constants in life, but Quinn had always been sure that a glass of brandy in Judy Fabray's hand was one of them. Apparently, she had sobered up during sophomore year, after divorcing Quinn's father and taking Quinn back into her house. The change in her mother was nice, but strange nonetheless.

The tired blonde waited for sleep; frequent naps seemed like the only way to make the day go by faster. As she lay still, she heard muffled voices outside her door. The only one she could really make out was her mother's, but the other two were so familiar that they could only be two people.

Suddenly the door swung open, revealing a perpetually annoyed-looking Santana and a cheerful Brittany.

"Sup," Santana greeted simply, while Brittany ran over and hugged the bed-ridden blonde. Quinn didn't react, letting Brittany wrap her long arms around her but not reciprocating.

"Hey, Q! We've missed you!"

"Uh… hi, Brittany," Quinn responded once the dancer had taken a few steps back. "What are you doing here?"

"We can't come visit our friend?" Santana snapped, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. Brittany reached out to rub her arm and Quinn didn't fail to notice the calming affect her touch seemed to have on the Latina.

"Neither of you have come to visit me besides the first day," Quinn shot back, the brunette's bad mood contagious. She saw Santana's eyes narrow dangerously, but any scathing retort she had was cut off by her blonde counterpart.

"I totally would have come to see you, Q, but San told me you had pneumonia, so I would only confuse you more," Brittany said as she sat in a chair next to Quinn's bed. Well, it seemed like Brittany hadn't changed much. Santana remained standing where she was at the foot of the bed.

"She has amnesia, B, not pneumonia," Santana corrected gently.

"She doesn't have enough metal in her blood?" Brittany asked, turning around in her seat, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"I'm not anemic, Brittany, I lost my memory," Quinn replied. Brittany turned around again, rolling her eyes and grinning.

"Duh, Q, I know you aren't anemic. I've seen you eat tons before. Plus, you totally love bacon."

Quinn stared at the other blonde incredulously, caught between being embarrassed by her questionable eating habits and being confused by the other girl's… odd way of thinking. She turned her eyes to meet Santana's. The brunette merely shrugged and took a few steps forward to stand next to Brittany.

"Whatever. We're here because we care about you."

Quinn let out a humorless laugh in response.

"Don't play that shit with us, Q-ball. You can be a real bitch sometimes and there was no way in hell I was gonna stay around for your freak out," Santana snapped.

"You're just as charming as ever, aren't you, Santana."

"Damn right," Santana smiled back with a sickly sweet grin," And you're still a cu—"

"Santana!" Brittany warned, turning around in her seat and glaring at the Latina, who snapped her mouth closed quickly, looking mollified. "Sorry, Quinn. San's in a bad mood right now. She was just talking with her abuela."

"Brit, shh!" Santana whispered, but the blonde ignored the glare sent her way.

"Your grandmother? But she, like, adores you. Why would that put you in a bad mood?" Quinn asked, her brow slightly furrowed in confusion. From what she remembered, Santana and her "abuela" had a great relationship, one that she often envied. Quinn's own grandmother had died when Quinn, or rather, Lucy, was young, and Grandpa Fabray was just an older version of her father: cold, detached, and an angry drunk.

Santana refused to respond, turning to look out the window. She didn't need, or want, to see Brittany's sad eyes or Quinn's confused ones. The last thing she wanted was pity.

Brittany's gaze flickered between both girls until it rested on the Latina. "You should tell her, San," she murmured gently, reaching out and running a hand up and down the brunette's arm soothingly. Santana's eyes cut to hers.

"When she's like this? Hell no," Santana hissed, gesturing to blonde lying down without taking her eyes off of Brittany.

"Excuse me? I'm right here. Tell me what?" Quinn asked, getting annoyed that she was left out of whatever secret they had.

Neither girl paid her any attention. They didn't speak either, but Quinn could have sworn that they were still communicating, staring each other down until finally, Santana's expression softened and she let out a resigned sigh.

"Fine." She moved closer to the blonde and put her hand on her shoulder. Brittany gently covered it with her own and smiled. "Brittany and I are…together."

The former Cheerio's eyebrows rose slightly, but that was the only reaction. Santana glared at her, daring her to comment. When she didn't, Santana snapped.

"Nothing to say, princess? Really?"

Again, Quinn barely reacted. After a long pause, she simply asked, "Who knows?"

"Everyone," Santana answered bitterly, her face fixed into a scowl. There was obviously a story behind that, but Quinn decided now wasn't the best time to push.

"So you're completely out? The two of you?"

Both girls nodded, one with more enthusiasm than the other. Quinn remained silent, which put Santana on edge, before nodding her head, looking satisfied.

"Good."

The Latina's eyebrows shot up, but she remained defensive. "'Good'? That's it? That's seriously the only fucking thing you've got to say?"

Quinn shrugged her thin shoulders. "Yeah." She met Santana's eyes easily. "What? It's not like I'm shocked. I'm only surprised that you two are actually public now."

"What?"

The blonde scoffed. "Oh, please. I've been to how many sleepovers with you two? Did you honestly think I believed you two were 'just practicing for Cheerios' when you went off together?"

"We were working on our flexibility!" Brittany exclaimed brightly as Santana's face turned a deep shade of red. To her credit, she only faltered for a second before continuing.

"You never said anything."

"Why would I? What you two did wasn't my business." Quinn replied, before adding with a smirk, "as long as you two kept quiet."

"But you…" Santana's eyes flashed to the tiny cross necklace around Quinn's neck for a brief second, but it was long enough for Quinn to notice.

She rolled her eyes. "Really? We've been friends for how long, Santana? Have I ever pushed my religion on you?"

The Latina thought for a moment, trying to come up with an example. She snapped her fingers and pointed at the blonde. "Chastity club."

"I made you join because it looked good. I didn't ever tell you to stop your 'extracurricular activities' outside of the club."

It was true, even Santana had to admit it. Quinn may have been super religious, but she was never _actually_ a Bible-pusher. The former head-Cheerio waited until she could see the realization on Santana's face before going on.

"The Bible says a lot of things that I agree with. But it also says a lot of stuff that's completely outdated. What you do isn't hurting me, or anyone for that matter. Who you love doesn't matter to me."

Santana didn't have a snappy comeback to make, so Brittany stepped in. She threw her arms around Quinn again.

"Thanks, Quinn! I totally knew you'd be cool with Santana and me." Quinn patted her on the back. Brittany settled back in her seat, bouncing a little in excitement. Santana stayed where she was, still trying to wrap her head around Quinn's reaction.

"So..." Quinn started, curiosity getting the best of her, "How did you come out?"

Her words snapped Santana out of her head and turned Brittany's smile into a frown. The brunette's scowl returned, turning her expression almost murderous.

"Two words," she growled, "Finn. Hudson."


	10. Chapter 10

**I know, I know. I won't bore you with my list of excuses. For those of you who are reading my other story, I'll be working on the next chapter of that next. Also, don't worry. I don't have plans to stop writing either of them, and if I do, I'll tell you guys. I hate unfinished stories, but I hate not knowing if they'll ever be finished even more.**

**As always, please review afterwards :)**

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"Miss Fabray? You have a visitor."

At the sound of the nurse's voice, Quinn almost tumbled out of her chair. She quickly recollected herself as she felt herself starting to blush.

Before she had been so rudely interrupted, she'd been trying to balance on the two back wheels of her chair. Artie had been in a few days earlier to talk with her, and she'd seen him doing it a few times. Of course, she'd never try in front of him, but while alone in her room she was more than tempted.

"Come in," she muttered, very much annoyed at the intrusion. Then again, all she seemed to feel anymore was annoyance. She expected her mother, who had forgotten her coat that morning, or Santana and Brittany, who both seemed to be appearing more often.

She did not expect a nervous Rachel Berry.

"Hello, Quinn," Rachel greeted softly, smiling at the blonde. She blanched slighly when she realized Quinn was in the wheelchair, recalling the last time the chair had been a topic of conversation between the two of them. "I see you're feeling well."

Quinn nodded, waiting to see what it was the brunette wanted. Rachel fidgeted at her spot in the doorway when the silence grew. Quickly growing bored with their interaction, Quinn sighed and rolled towards the door.

"Wh-where are you going?" Rachel asked, turning to let Quinn out of the room.

"Around the children's ward," Quinn answered. When she saw the confused look on Rachel's face, she added, "Doctor's orders."

"May I… accompany you?" Rachel asked, fully expecting to be shot down. Quinn, not really in the mood for visitors, opened her mouth to tell the small brunette to get lost, until she met Rachel's eyes. She didn't remember Berry's eyes getting so big. Did that happen in the two and a half years lost in her head too? Whatever the case, something about those big brown eyes made Quinn unable to say no, no matter how much she wanted to. There was obviously still something wrong in her head. She'd have to ask the doctors to look at it again.

"Sure, whatever," she replied flippantly, already making her way down the hallway. She missed the way Rachel's face lit up, but she could still hear the girl's penny loafers against the linoleum as she caught up with her.

"Why have they put you in the child's ward?" Rachel inquired absentmindedly, peering into the different rooms as they passed by. Thankfully, there were no tiny, sick children sleeping in their beds like she had pictured in her imagination.

"I'm not an adult yet," Quinn replied, paying little attention to the passing rooms. Truthfully, her mind was more focused on Rachel ─ er, Finn ─ because of what Santana had told her yesterday. The Latina had recounted the tale of her "coming out" with a generous amount of bitterness and anger.

"I even _thanked _him after he sang that dumbass song in glee," Santana had spat out, "I don't know what the hell I was thinking."

Later, Brittany told Quinn that she had asked Santana to play nice, for all of their sakes. The blonde hadn't wanted it to come between Santana and Rachel's, and even Quinn and Rachel's friendships. She didn't elaborate much, leaving Quinn with a few questions.

The biggest one being why the girl walking next to her had actuallystuck by Finn after he did something like that. Quinn wasn't all that surprised by Finn's actions. She remembered him being an ok guy, but he wasn't exactly the smartest person out there and he did have a problem with speaking before thinking. No, Quinn was more confused by the fact that Rachel had stayed him, after he had publicly outed one of her good friends (it still felt weird for Quinn to think that Santana was even _friends _Rachel, let alone good friends).

Not that Quinn really cared about Finn and Rachel's relationship, but still, she had to admit she was a tiny bit curious.

"So they have you doing these exercises every day?" Rachel asked, desperate to find a topic of conversation. She hated long silences, but she was also afraid that she'd somehow set Quinn off again.

Quinn nodded. "Plus some other physical therapy things," she added without realizing it. She shut her mouth quickly, hoping that the other girl wouldn't latch on to her reply. She did.

"Oh! And how's that going?"

"It's fine," Quinn responded curtly, wanting to end whatever conversation they were beginning. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rachel deflate slightly. Something ached in her chest, but she put it off as exertion.

After another moment of awkward silence, Rachel tried again. "Noah told me that he came to visit you."

"Really," Quinn replied flatly, tensing up. She knew where this conversation would lead, and the last person she wanted to talk about Beth with was Rachel. She knew that she had given Beth to Rachel's biological mother, but she wasn't planning on bonding with the brunette over it anytime soon.

"Yes and he told me that you were making progress with your memory," Rachel continued on, sparing a few nervous glances in the blonde's direction. Quinn refused to make eye contact in case it encouraged Rachel. "He said that you recalled some things about Beth after he showed you a picture of her."

Quinn shrugged, feigning indifference. "I guess I remembered a few things." She wanted to hate hearing her daughter's name coming from Rachel Berry's mouth, but instead she found it sort of pleasant. Maybe have the doctors check twice...

"That's great, Quinn," Rachel offered. Quinn could practically hear the "but" that was about to come. "But…"

'_Here it comes,' _Quinn thought to herself, getting ready to shoot her down. The prospect of saying "no" to Rachel wasn't as sweet as she remembered, but whatever, she'd take what she could get.

"…I was wondering if that picture I gave you helped with your memory at all," Rachel finished, looking down at Quinn nervously.

"What?" Quinn asked, almost forgetting to keep pushing her chair forward. She wasn't really expecting _that_ question. What picture?

"The picture I gave you a few weeks ago. Did it help at all with your memory?"

A few weeks ago…? Oh. She must be talking about the one that Quinn had ripped into tiny little pieces at first glance. Quinn briefly considered what the brunette's face would look like if she told her she'd thrown that photo out. She assumed it would look very similar to Rachel's face after a slushy attack. She considered telling her, but the last thing she wanted was for the emotional girl to start crying in the middle of the hallway. And maybe she'd feel a bit guilty too. But only a tiny bit.

"Um, no, sorry," Quinn said instead, watching Rachel's hopeful smile fall. Before she knew what she was doing, she blurted out, "But it was a nice picture." '_God, Fabray, what are you doing?' _ she mentally berated herself as the girl next to her smiled.

"It's one of my favorites," Rachel said, almost absentmindedly. Quinn was busy being stuck in her head to respond, so the two fell into a slightly more comfortable silence. The blonde could easily ask about what the context of the photograph was, but that would mean she was interested. And she wasn't interested... mostly.

Rachel began thinking out loud, trying to fill the silence. "I wonder why you responded to Beth's picture and not the one I gave you. Perhaps it has to do with the connection a mother and daughter have being stronger than just a simple memory. After all, you did carry her for 9 months, not to mention you experienced a rather abrupt separation right after the traumatic experience of giving birth. Though I suppose it's still a little early to..."

Quinn grew more and more annoyed as the nervous brunette rambled on. She _really_ didn't want to hear about the "maternal connection" that she herself had not remembered until a few weeks ago. She was tired, and conversing with Rachel was a lot more work than she'd thought it be. All she wanted to do was finish the lap, go to her room, and sleep.

"Perhaps you should have the doctors look into this photograph phenomenon. I've read quite a bit on amnesia and people who recovered their memories, and―"

"Oh my god, RuPaul, _shut up_! Maybe I didn't remember anything because I ripped it apart as soon as you gave it to me!" Quinn snapped, stopping her wheelchair. Rachel stopped too, lowering her head to look at the ground. The ex-cheerleader watched the brunette's small hands clasp each other, and she actually felt bad. She took a deep breath because this was going to be slightly difficult.

"Look, I'm sorry, Rachel. That was really uncalled for. I'm just... tired, I guess," she apologized as best she could.

"It's quite alright, Quinn," Rachel said, but she kept her gaze on the ground. Quinn sighed.

"Really, Rachel. I shouldn't have said that. Please don't start crying or anything like that." Ok, so she wouldn't be winning any awards for best apology, big deal, she was trying at least. Rachel took a moment before looking back up at Quinn, her eyes a little wet. She took a deep breath and surreptitiously wiped her eyes.

"Can I ask why you ripped the picture?" Rachel asked, her tone hurt and, to Quinn's surprise, a little sarcastic. The blonde started feeling uncomfortable and looked away. She really didn't know why she had torn it into pieces, but she didn't really want to analyze why she'd done it either.

"I was in a bad mood, I guess," Quinn shrugged. She started moving forward again just for something else to do.

"Oh."

The expression on Rachel's face forced the next words out of Quinn's mouth. "If you have another copy, you could always give it to me again."

"Really?" her eyes brightened but she remained cautious. "Are you sure that wouldn't be bothering you?"

'_Probably' _"Not really."

"Wonderful," Rachel beamed. "Is there a preferable day or time that you would like me to bring it over?"

It was just one stupid picture but Rachel was treating it like it was a formal contract or something. And wasn't she just about to cry? Quinn already had gotten whiplash from the accident; she didn't need to get it again by trying to keep up with Rachel Berry's many emotions.

"Monday would work," Quinn shrugged.

"Oh," Rachel had been hoping for sometime sooner. "Ok. Why so far from now, if you don't mind me asking?"

Quinn sighed. "I'll be home by then. They're releasing me in a couple of days."

"Really:?" Rachel squealed, gaining the attention of a few doctors and nurses. "That is excellent news! Does that mean you'll be back at school soon?"

"They said I could go back the week after I go home."

"I'm so excited for you! I'm sure you can't wait to be back home!"

"Sure."

"This really is great news," Rachel beamed as she and Quinn reached the blonde's room. She clapped a few times in excitement, unable to contain herself. Quinn caught herself smiling at the girl's contagiously positive attitude. She was actually pretty adorable when she got excited...

"Knock knock."

Both girls turned at the sound of Judy Fabray's voice.

"Quinnie, do you feel like going down to the cafeteria today for lunch? It's much better than this boring old room, and they have BLTs— oh, Rachel! I didn't know you were here!" Judy greeted her enthusiastically. Much to the surprise of her daughter, she hugged the brunette with unrestrained affection. "It's nice to see you again, dear."

"It's nice to see you too, Ju— Ms. Fabray." Rachel cast an unsure look at Quinn, who was still a little surprised at the pair's interaction.

"Uh-uh," Judy tutted, "You know as well as anyone that it is _Judy_. None of that 'Ms. Fabray" nonsense. Now, did you come here just to make me feel old?"

"I was actually just taking a walk with Quinn, but seeing two Fabray women just makes the trip that much more worthwhile," Rachel easily bantered back. Quinn honestly had no idea how to react to the way her mother and her not-really-but-kinda friend were speaking with each other. It was definitely weird, to say the least.

"Do you want to join us for lunch? I'm sure they have something for you vegans." Both of Quinn's eyebrows were raised now. Her mother knew _Rachel Berry's _dietary preferences.

Rachel glanced over and noticed the discomfort on Quinn's face. "Thank you for the invite, Judy, however my fathers are expecting me home."

"Oh, tell Hiram and Leroy that I say hello!"

"I'll be sure to give them your message." Rachel smiled before turning to Quinn. "I had a lovely time walking around with you, Quinn. I'm so glad that things are working out well for you."

"Bye, Rachel!" Judy said as Rachel walked out of the room. All Quinn managed to do was give a half-hearted wave at the last second. Once it was just the two blondes, Quinn stared at her mother incredulously.

"I do miss that girl, Quinn. You really should start spending more time with her again," Judy stated offhandedly, a smile on her face as she looked at the doorway. Quinn gaped at her.

"Are you serious right now?"

Judy turned her head in the younger blonde's direction. "Of course I'm serious. Don't look at me like that."

"What the hell was that? Since when have you and Rachel Berry been so buddy-buddy?" Quinn demanded, finally finding her voice again.

"Watch your language, young lady. I know you are a little confused right now but that doesn't mean you can act like a child," Judy chastised.

"How else am I supposed to act when my _mother _and a girl I hate are acting like best friends?" Quinn demanded.

"There's a lot of things you need to realize, Lucy Quinn, and being stubborn about it will only make it that much harder for you. Rachel Berry is a wonderful girl. She doesn't deserve to be treated the way you've treated her," Judy answered back sternly. At the sound of her given name, Quinn recoiled slightly. She crossed her arms petulantly, wishing that her mother's words didn't ring so true.

Judy smiled slightly at the chastised look on Quinn's face before turning and walking back towards the door. She paused after a few steps and turned her head.

"Are you going to join accompany me to the cafeteria today, or are you going to sulk in your room?"

When she was met with silence, she merely shrugged and started walking again. "Suit yourself. I believe tuna casserole is on the menu for today."

Quinn bit her lip, struggling to choose between bruising her ego or letting her stomach suffer. In the end, food won. She sighed and started rolling out of the room, trying to catch up with her mother.

* * *

Rachel stepped into her house feeling very pleased with herself. Her visit with Quinn had gone rather well, or as well as she could expect. Quinn hadn't called her any nicknames once, which Rachel saw as progress from the last visit. Quinn had even invited her to her house at the end, which was pleasantly surprising. All in all, she called today a huge success.

"Dad. Daddy," she greeted her fathers happily, kissing each of them on the cheek as she entered the kitchen.

"Someone's in a good mood," Leroy teased. "I take it your trip to the hospital went well?

Rachel grabbed an apple and a water bottle and sat down at the table before answering. "Quite well. The doctors already have Quinn in her wheelchair and moving about! She even says she'll be released within the next few days!"

"That's excellent news, sweetheart," Hiram responded, smiling at his daughter's obvious excitement.

"Mm-hmm," she hummed through a bite of her apple. Her fathers waited for her to swallow, knowing she probably had more to say than a simple "mm-hmm". "I'm bringing the picture I gave to her a few weeks ago to her house on Monday."

"Doesn't she already have it though?" Leroy asked, confused.

"It got thrown out the day I brought it over," Rachel replied, nonchalantly. Leroy exchanged a look with his husband, who looked slightly concerned as well.

"Sweetie," Leroy started gently, "Was Quinn the one who threw it out?"

"Well, yes." Rachel answered before quickly adding, "But she told me she was sorry. She was very emotional that day, so it is understandable."

Hiram smiled at his daughter. "Just be careful, honey. We don't want to see you get hurt."

"I am being careful, dad. Quinn was the one who suggested I bring it over again. Please don't worry about me. I can deal with this," Rachel stated, throwing her now empty water bottle in the recycling and the core of her apple in the trash. She flashed her parents a winning smile. "I'm going upstairs to finish my homework."

She hurried up the stairs before either of her fathers started to rain on her parade again.

* * *

The sound of the doorbell rang through the Fabray household. Quinn heard her mother rushing around trying to fix the house up one last time before answering the door. '_Judy Fabray, always 'the hostess with the mostest'_, Quinn thought to herself idly.

"Oh, hello, Rachel! It's been some time since you've been over here, dear," Quinn heard her mother exclaim after opening the door. Quinn was confused for a second, before realizing that Rachel had been over to her house many times before; she just couldn't remember.

"Afternoon, Judy. It really has been awhile, hasn't it?" Rachel's polite voice easily carried through the house to Quinn's room on the second floor.

When she'd come back home, there had been no place for Quinn to sleep on the first floor and be comfortable, so her mother had a motorized chair installed on the staircase. It was utterly humiliating having to go up and down the stairs like a geriatric old man, but it was better than having to sleep on the couch. But only just.

Quinn closed her eyes and blocked out the pleasantries being exchanged between her mother and Rachel. She suspected the brunette could find her way to her room in no time; all she'd have to do was wait.

Not two minutes later, she heard a knock on the door.

"It's unlocked," she called out, keeping her eyes closed. She was lying on her bed, just like she had been all day. The door opened slowly, no doubt because Rachel was poking her head in first.

"Hello, Quinn."

Her overly formal way of speaking irked Quinn, but she chose not to comment and simply grunted softly in recognition. See? She could play nice.

"Have you been enjoying your time back home?" Rachel asked, slipping through the doorway and closing the door behind her.

_'Not really.' _"The only changes are the scenery and more comfortable pillows," Quinn responded, cracking one eye open to finally look at her guest. Rachel stood near her door in a light dress, her hair straightened perfectly, smiling softly at her.

"I'm sorry to hear that,:" she said, her lips quirked up in an amused smile.

Quinn shrugged. "It's not like I can do much besides lay around anyway. I'd be just as miserable anywhere else."

Rachel shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. 'Well, at least now you have school work," she offered brightly, holding up a folder. Quinn arched her eyebrow, fighting the urge to mock the odd girl. Rachel watched her struggle and sighed. "I was kidding."

"Oh," Quinn replied, giving her a strained smile and a short laugh. The amount of awkward in the room was stifling. Quinn went back to staring at the ceiling, if only for something else to do.

Looking for something to break the tension, Rachel started moving throughout the already familiar room. The walls were a light green, the bed sheets a simple white, just like she remembered. There were two bookcases on the other side of the bed, one already filled and the other well on its way. A brochure for Yale was pinned onto the bulletin board above Quinn's desk. Nothing had changed, and yet everything was different.

Quinn watched the girl curiously. The tiny brunette was currently reading the spines of Quinn's book, some of which Quinn didn't recognize. It was almost like Rachel was more familiar with her room than Quinn was.

An idea struck Rachel as her eyes landed on Quinn's desk. "A ha!" she exclaimed, rushing over and picking something up out of Quinn's sight.

"What?" The sudden movement startled Quinn, who realized just how long she'd been watching the brunette without saying anything.

"Have you taken a look at any of the things on your desk?" Rachel asked, her back to Quinn.

"Not really... why?" Quinn questioned. She knew Rachel had weird tendencies, but the question was random even for her. The brunette spun around and held up two picture frames.

The first one she held was a picture of two girls sitting on a bench, looking at the sunset hanging over a lake. One girl had her arm around the other, their heads rested together. The picture only showed the back of the girls' heads, but Quinn was certain that the two girls were Brittany and Santana.

The second picture was almost exactly like the first, except that the angle it had been taken at was slightly different from the first. And this time, two different girls were sitting in place of Santana and Brittany. Their postures mirrored the first picture; the blonde, taller girl's arm around the shorter brunette. It took Quinn a moment to realize that the brunette was Rachel, and that _she_ was the blonde. Suddenly, a new memory hit her.

_**(Takes place between The First Time and Mash Off)**_

_It's November, but it's uncharacteristically warm today. Mid-seventies, in fact. Of course, no one wants to let perfect days like this go to waste, especially not Quinn, so she skipped school. She even managed to convince Rachel to skip with her, a first for the brunette. Neither Santana nor Brittany needed any convincing. _

_The four girls had arrived about an hour or two ago at a small lake that Quinn, Santana, and Brittany had found at the beginning of freshman year, after Coach Sylvester had all the Cheerios dropped off in a random forest and left to find their own ways out. Unsurprisingly, the "Unholy Trinity" were the first ones to get back to civilization, but not until after happening upon the lake. Since then, they'd go to the lake whenever they all had the chance. _

_As far as they know, the lake is their little secret. In the few years they'd been going, they'd never seen a single other person. Which means that they are free to act however they want and do whatever they want, without the scrutinizing eyes of other people on them. This knowledge is like a drug to Quinn, energizing her to be less like the person everyone expects, and more like the person she wants to be. _

"_What the f—," Santana's curse is cut off as her head goes underwater. Quinn laughs loudly and swims as fast as she can away. Santana had been sunbathing on top of an inflatable floatie; at least, she was until Quinn dumped her out of it. _

"_QUINN FUCKING FABRAY! VOY A MATARTE!" _

_Santana is seething, and maybe Quinn's been out in the sun for too long, but she swears she can see the water _evaporating _off the enraged girl. Luckily for Quinn, she's a terrific swimmer. _

_She takes a glance at the shore for a brief moment. Brittany is giggling at her girlfriend, who is trying to wade her way over to Quinn. Rachel, who had been reading a book before, is currently looking up at her and shaking her head with a small smile on her face. _

"_COME BACK HERE!" Santana yells, droplets of water flying everywhere. Quinn waits until the Latina gets close, but still a safe distance away, before swimming away again. Santana growls and slaps at the water in frustration. Quinn can hear her mumbling obscenities in Spanish as she gets out of the water and goes directly to Brittany, who's holding a towel out for her. _

_Quinn chuckles and floats on her back. She loves days like this, with the water cool and clear, and the sun shining on her face. They remind her of being a child during the summer, when nothing mattered except having fun. She'd be content staying like this for the rest of her life._

"_Quinn!" she hears Rachel call out distantly. She'd be content hearing that voice for the rest of her life too. _

"_Quinnn!" Rachel calls out again. Quinn stands upright in the water and looks toward the brunette, who is waving her arms and pointing somewhere beyond the blonde. "The floatie!"_

"_What?" Quinn yells back, pretending she can't hear Rachel. She loves getting Rachel worked. _

"_The floatie! Get the floatie!"_

"_What? Rach, I can't hear you." Quinn says, shaking her head as if water is clogging her ears. "Come closer."_

_Rachel huffs in frustration, but complies, moving until she's at the very edge of the rocks surrounding the lake. Quinn makes her way over to the edge too, a plan already forming in her head. She squints up at the brunette against the glaring sun and her hair out of her face._

"_Quinn, I know you can hear me perfectly fine. That floatie keeps going farther and farther out. Unless you want to lose it, I suggest you go get it."_

"_What? What floatie?" Quinn asks, turning her head in different directions._

_Rachel looks up and points at the pink floatation device currently drifting further and further away. "That floa—"_

_And just like that, Quinn pulls her into the water. She grabs her around the knees and brings them both underwater, making sure to keep Rachel's head away from the rocks. Rachel is flailing around in her arms and shrieking, though Quinn can only hear her because she's underwater as well. Rachel pulls away from her and tries to right herself. They emerge at around the same time._

"_You are so childish, Quinn Fabray! An utterly incorrigible, tiresome nuisance! I can't believe you!"_

_Quinn is too busy laughing hysterically to hear much of what Rachel is saying. She flips her hair from off her face and tries to calm down, shaking the water out of her eyes. An annoyed huff from Rachel brings her gaze upward and knocks whatever breath she had left right out of her._

_Rachel, even after being dragged into the water, looks breathtaking. Lightly defined ab muscles flex in and out as she catches her breath. Dark tendrils of hair wrap around her torso, almost past her shoulders; her hair really is getting quite long. Small droplets of water drip down perfectly tanned skin, catching the sunlight as they go. What Quinn wouldn't do to be able to kiss those tiny droplets off of her..._

"_Are you listening, Quinn?"_

"_Sorry, Rach," Quinn snaps out of her Rachel Berry-induced haze. She needs to get out of the sun. "I've still got water in my ear."_

"_Don't you dare try that with me again! I know for a fact that you can hear me perfectly well! Now apologize!"_

"_For what?" Quinn asks innocently._

"'_For what'? For pulling me into the water!" _

"_You fell in," Quinn responds, looking at Rachel with wide eyes. "Which was really dangerous, by the way. You should be more careful."_

"_I did not fall in! You pulled me!" Rachel cries out, lunging at Quinn, who easily dodges her. _

"_That's not true," Quinn says, but her laughter has already given her away. Rachel continues to try and tackle her, with Quinn managing to avoid her grasp each time, until the blonde's foot slips on something underwater. Rachel's hands make contact and dunks Quinn underwater. _

_Even beneath the water's surface, Quinn can hear Rachel laughing loudly, and wraps her arms around the brunette's waist. Her fingers slip over Rachel's slick skin, but she manages to lift up from under her and bring the tiny girl over her shoulder. Laughter turns into playful shrieks as Rachel slaps at Quinn's back._

"_Put me down!" _

"_Are you going to tackle me again?" Quinn smiles when she feels Rachel shaking her head. "Promise?"_

"_I promise I won't tackle you again, Fabray," Rachel huffs in exasperation. Quinn chuckles, but places the brunette down gently, making sure she doesn't slip. _

"_That was mean," Rachel pouts dramatically, arms akimbo. _

"_That was fun," Quinn corrects, sticking her tongue out. She's met with an eye roll and a quick turn towards the shore. She follows behind Rachel dutifully._

"_I wasn't supposed to get wet!" Rachel whines._

"_You'll survive," Quinn responds distractedly, more focused on the way Rachel's bikini bottoms have ridden up slightly. _

_They make it to the edge of the water and climb out. Rachel rushes over to where she was sitting before being pulled into the lake and grabs a towel, wrapping it around herself. Quinn grabs her own and they both sit down on the grass, looking out at the water._

_The sun is beginning to set, but Quinn isn't ready to leave. Neither is Rachel apparently, who just leans against Quinn, resting her head on the blonde's shoulder. It's turned peaceful all of a sudden, only the sounds of a few birds chirping and the quiet murmurs and giggles of Santana and Brittany a few feet away fill the air. A soft sigh comes from beside Quinn._

"_Did you have a good time?" Quinn asks, turning her head to face Rachel. _

"_The best," Rachel replies, turning her face as well. They're practically touching noses now, but all it does is send a harsh pang through Quinn's chest. _

_This moment isn't right. In a perfect world, Quinn could just lean in and kiss Rachel, but here, that's not Quinn's role to play. It's _Finn's _role. All Quinn is supposed to do is stand on the sidelines as her dream girl walks away. So she pulls back and stares at the sunset. _

"_Good," she whispers. She wonders if Rachel noticed the subtle change in her mood, but she doubts it. They go back to watching the sun sink further and further in the sky, its colors reflecting off the water. Quinn worries that Rachel might be falling asleep until..._

"_Where the hell did my floatie go?" _

_Their little bubble is broken, and they dissolve into giggles. _

"We took those pictures right before we left," Rachel murmured distantly, running her fingertips over the frame absentmindedly. "Do you remember that day?"

"I remember," Quinn whispered, her mind reeling from the sudden appearance of the memory. Rachel's head snapped up immediately.

"What?"

Quinn looked up into hopeful brown eyes. "I—I remember that day." Just like when she remembered carrying Beth, the new memories were vividly detailed; she could remember almost everything about it. She remembered the drive to the lake and back, the way the water felt on her skin; but most of all, she remembered how utterly content she'd been that day. She hadn't felt that way in a long time; not since she started needed glasses in 5th grade. Especially not since she'd stopped being Lucy and started being Quinn.

She didn't realize she was crying until she felt tiny droplets fall onto the back of her hand. She quickly wiped her eyes, ignoring the ache in her chest at the similarity of her tears and the lake water on her skin.

"Quinn? Quinn what's wrong?" Rachel asked, her voice filled with concern.

"Nothing. I'm fine," Quinn muttered hastily, waving Rachel off. She didn't understand why she was getting so damn emotional over this.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Quinn snapped. She hadn't meant to; she really was trying to be nice to Rachel. But her first reaction to showing emotion would always be shutting down. That's how she was raised.

Rachel took a step back and nodded, falling silent. Quinn knew she should apologize for snapping, but she couldn't make herself do it. She felt like she was always apologizing to Rachel.

"Is there anything else?"

Rachel shook her head, putting the two pictures back on the desk. The folder of schoolwork and the other photo lay forgotten besides them. "Do you want me to go?" she asked.

Quinn nodded. She saw Rachel's disappointment, but the girl didn't argue and just moved towards the door.

"Wait," Quinn said suddenly. She hated the idea of spending the rest of the week with just her mother for company. And she was trying the whole "be nice to Rachel" thing, right? "Do you want to come over tomorrow?"

"What?"

"Do you want to come over tomorrow? I'm pretty sure I'll need help with some of that homework," Quinn said, her eyes glancing over to the folder at her desk. It was true. There was no way she'd be able to do her work when she couldn't remember anything she'd learnt in the past two and a half years.

"And you want me to help you?"

"I don't want to fail out of school," Quinn stated. It was the closest she could come to actually asking for help.

"I wouldn't want that either," Rachel replied, smiling again. "Of course I can help you with your school work."

"Thanks."

Rachel waited at the door for a moment before realizing Quinn was waiting for her to leave.

"Oh, sorry. I guess I'll go now."

"Bye, Rachel," Quinn said, only hesitating for a second. Rachel looked back and gave her a bright smile.

"Goodbye, Quinn. I'll see you tomorrow." And then she was out the door. Quinn listened to the sounds of her leaving; footsteps down the staircase, another short conversation with her mother, and finally, the slamming of the front door.

A soft sigh escaped Quinn's lips. Talking with Rachel was exhausting her. The sudden appearance of a new memory didn't help either. But at least conversing with Rachel no longer felt like pulling teeth anymore, Quinn had to admit. It was getting easier, a fact that worried Quinn, but also, to her surprise, made her a little bit happier.

She reached out and grabbed her iPod, hoping that maybe some loud music would be able to drown out her loud thoughts.

* * *

The next day at physical therapy, Quinn was able to make her entire left foot twitch.


End file.
